


Father of Hopes and Dreams

by bugattiispaceship



Series: Imperfect Vessels [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father relationship, Force Sensitivity, Force-Sensitive Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Culture, Other, Requests, Star Wars - Freeform, Tumblr request, paz vizla - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 26,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugattiispaceship/pseuds/bugattiispaceship
Summary: Your young master is gone, just at the birth of your bond, he has left you for many years, leaving you to survive the galaxy alone. After sustaining an injury from a drunken storm trooper, someone faces the decision to either leave or help you in your moment of need.
Relationships: Paz Vizsla & Reader
Series: Imperfect Vessels [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010565
Comments: 18
Kudos: 134





	1. Clipped Wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pedropascal](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=pedropascal).



> Got this as a tumblr req! I might continue but lemme know if you want me to! Hope you enjoy!

He was asleep; you were sure of it. Asleep and possibly bordering on unconscious. No one had even noticed you slip into the entrance and past the bartender. The pack bound around your waist was already half full of the pickings from inebriated guests, credits, jewelry, and other valuables of sorts. But this, whoever it was (not that it mattered) looked like they were the absolute jackpot of this cantina. Perhaps being stranded on Stewjon wasn’t so bad after all. Your bare feet slipped against the marble flooring silently as you crept up on the strangers sleeping form, slumped awkwardly in their own booth. No one else made an attempt to approach this individual, mostly in part to his absolutely enormous size. The bulk of the stranger was obviously intimidating, but even if they were to wake, there was always the option to run, fight or if you had to, use your power.

Finally, you were close enough to touch the person; up close they were even more massive. You pondered for a moment what kind of being they could possibly under the bulk of what seemed like a thousand pounds of heavy armor. Your fingers found their way to the smallest pouch secured to their utility belt, popping the button off, and finding a few credits stored inside. Glancing up, you noticed the still slow rise and fall of the person’s chest; you still had time. Looking back at your loot, you counted your collection, trying to determine how many days you could live off of the stolen money.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

A vice like grip seized you by the withered collar of your tunic, lifting you easily off the ground. The initial shock had you frozen in your tracks, staring right in the eyes of a drunken stormtrooper, the sheen of his armor long gone with the reign of his empire.

“I said what the hell d’you think you’re doing, you kriffing brat!?” Alcohol was prevalent on the human’s tongue.

You could see his hand move for his blaster. Oh Kark. With a quick change of focus you dropped the spoils of your thievery and sent the blaster flying off. Startled, the stormtrooper dropped you roughly on the ground, waking the slumbering giant you had just stolen from. Slowly they rose from their seat gathering up the scene before him. Awestruck by the massive being, you remained still for just a moment too long, giving the kriffing stormtrooper enough time to draw a vibroblade and slice into the flesh of your side.

Letting out a sharp cry of pain, you reacted out of instinct, turning to your attacker. It was easy, almost too easy to take control of his arm using only the power of the Force, and to send the vibroblade plunging into the thick of his thigh, even in spite of his armor. Dismissing the money completely, you sprinted out the door of the cantina as fast as you could someone behind you was clearly shouting, whether in alarm or anger, you weren’t sure, but not interested enough to find out.

Going days without a single proper meal had taken its toll allowing that kriffing stormtrooper the opportunity to strike in the first place. Surely had you been well, you could have handled him easily, right? Surely you weren’t just weak…Surely you master would come back for you. He had to. He said he would. He promised. Sure the bond had been new, hasty…It had been what seemed like a millennia ago, he promised. Even as you stumbled down the empty alley, falling weakly against a dumpster, pulling whatever you could over your body to hide yourself. Maybe when you woke up it would have all been a bad dream.


	2. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having finally woken from losing so much blood, you find yourself somewhere entirely new with the heavily armored man from the day prior...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really enjoyed writing this! Sorry it's late! I'm doing a summer college course full time and working on the weekends. Hope you enjoy!

Blood loss coupled with your own fatigue had you just moments away from sleep until something pulled one of the waste bags covering your body and tossed it aside. With your hiding spot revealed, you scrambled to your feet in a feeble attempt to run only to have one hand scoop you up. It was the heavy armored soldier from the cantina. Was he going to finish what the storm trooper started? Was he pissed you had tried to steal from him while he slept? With all your strength you pushed against his grip, and for a moment your efforts seemed fruitful until you realized his grip only loosed because he was shifting to a more comfortable position.

“Ah Kark!” You wheezed, not having much physical fight left in you. “Alright, metal man. Just do it! Kill me!”

The armored man chuckled. Or perhaps it was a cough or grunt, it was hard to tell with the world spinning. You needed to focus, and somehow get away, though no matter how hard you reasoned, you failed to develop any desire to attack him. There were numerous things you could have done, crush his throat, cease blood flow, or even manipulate muscle, yet something within you kept your use of the Force at bay.

“You…You’re not gonna kill me?” Mumbling, you tried to find a gaze to meet, though any present one was obscured by the visor of his helmet.

“I have no desire to kill a dying child.” The man reasoned, pressing something soft to your wound. The pressure sent a jolt of pain through your body, forcing you to spasm.

“Stay still, child. Moving only make the blood flow quicker.”

“Are-Are you helping me? I tried to steal from you!”

A frightening thought flashed through your head. There had been tales of wounded vagrants being patched up by mysterious strangers and then being enslaved by space pirates. There was no way in hell this man had nothing but malicious intentions. Sent into a panic by your new revelation, you gathered up the dregs of your strength and beat heavily upon any part of the man’s body that wasn’t covered in thick armor. Finding that fighting did nothing, you wriggled until you were facing a portion of his arm clothed in fabric. Taking this position to your advantage, you steadied yourself on his bicep and bit down full force on the area exposed between his forearm and upper arm.

Letting out a low grunt, the mysterious stranger let go of you, dropping your body on the hard ground of the street. Fueled solely by adrenaline, you scrambled quickly to your feet, sprinting as far away as possible, trying desperately to make heads or tails of your surroundings. Callouses on your feet threatened to break as you pushed through the nighttime crowds of the Stewjoni underground, feeling the wet warmth of your own blood soak through your long tunic and trickle down your thigh. No one spared you a second glace, most likely thinking you were just another stray child that the streets would tragically claim, unfortunate, but not their problem.

“You little Krayt Dragon!” The man’s deep voice bellowed as your felt him yank roughly on the collar of your tunic. “It’s like you have a damn death wish…”

In your last few seconds of consciousness, you could hear your captor mumble a host of swears as your eyes finally shut.

***___***___***

When you next opened your eyes, surprise overcame nearly all your senses. By some miracle you had lived. A smile spread across your face weakly, until you felt the cold sensation of durasteel binders against the skin of your wrists. Fortunately, with some focus, the binders crumbled to dust. Sitting up you looked around finding yourself in a bed of your own in a rather nice room. Twisting your body to slip off the bed, your movements pulled at the somewhat fresh wound at your side. Pulling up your hastily cleaned tunic, bandages were wrapped neatly around your lower torso. Pressing ever so lightly, you could tell the gash had been neatly sewed shut and cleaned thoroughly.

Feet finally finding the surprisingly soft carpet decorating the floor, you wandered about the room, guard immediately falling due to sheer wonder. When was the last time you had ever slept in an actual bed with a whole room to yourself? Your master would have admonished any exploring on your own, he would have ridiculed any attempt, insisting that you would only hurt yourself or someone else, even though it could very well be accidental. But your master didn’t need to know everything, and if you failed to tell him how often you were using the Force…Well it wouldn’t hurt anyone…important.

To the right of your bedside were bay doors granting you a halfway decent view of the prefecture’s main harbor. Pulling the doors open, you hurried to the edge of the small balcony, jumping up and hanging onto the guardrail to peek at the open ocean. The sun kissed the crystal surface perfectly, sending small flashes of light sparkling before your eyes. If only your master could see this. If he had, he surely would have shown you as well and not kept you aboard the ship as he always insisted on doing. He was a kind man who just wanted to keep you from Imperial eyes, even if their empire had fallen.

“You should still be resting.”

Slipping down from your uncomfortable perch, you turned around to see the man bedecked in heavy armor from head to toe. His hands lay comfortably at his sides, making no indication of reaching for any of the available weapons carried on his person.

“That was a nasty bite you gave me the other night…” He grumbled, motioning for you to come closer. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, little one.”

“Hm. But I might hurt you. No promises, though.” Turning back to the balcony, you tried to gauge the distance between your current level and the ground.

“If you jump, you’ll only hurt yourself further,” the man’s string voice stated.

“My master is coming for me, metal-man.”

“Master?” His voice fluctuated just slightly. “…Your guardian? When?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you hesitated. “I…I don’t know…I was just a toddler I-I think.”

His strong figure approached, each step resounding in your ears. Making no move to inch away or even shrink back, you remained firm in your stance, tilting your head back to just stare at his visor.

“I can take care of myself.” Was it a lie? Of course, just one of many keeping you free and able to wait for your master’s return.

“And your injury is supposed to convince me of your self reliance?” His head shifted to the side.

“I’m not trying to convince anyone. Especially not a stranger who I failed to steal from…”

“Ah. That little matter.” The man paused unclipping his credit pouch from his belt. “While you did drop everything you attempted to steal, other vagrants were able to snatch what was mine.”

Scratching the back of your head, you winced.

“Even still, I could not let a mere child die amidst trash in some alley.” One large hand gently pushed your chin, tilting it back even further. The leather of his worn gloves was surprisingly soft against your skin. “A ‘master’…” He mused; the last word just slightly bitter. “While you are determined and crafty, that is not enough to survive. For now, small child, you shall travel by my side. Perhaps we will find you ‘master’ along the way.”

The armored man gripped your forearm securely, pulling you back into the rented room with ease. Making no protest, you felt you had no say in his new proclamation. As he redressed your wound, you remained still, feeling something within the living force grow where something fleeting and cruel had once perished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! I love any criticism and tips on how I can make my writing better for my readers <3


	3. Dead or Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz Vizsla learns more about your mystery, unaware of the chaos that comes with caring for a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy! had more time to write since I finished an exam early!

“Why are you so tall? Did you eat other people and gain their strength!? If you did, that’s disgusting.”

Never in his life had Paz encountered a child that spoke so much, the few foundlings he had met were either too young to speak or quite shy themselves.

“Why are you checking my blood? Are you gonna eat me too?!”

He sighed. “No…” The small machine in his hand let out a small noise, indicating the sample was received. 

The young one smiled, clearly glad at his response. “Oh, good! Why do you wear your armor inside? I’m not gonna attack you. Unless you attack me. I mean, I did try to rob you.”

Keeping his attention fixed on the results of the blood test, Paz winced at the information displayed on his datapad. While the child was certainly lively and very much alert, their results showed clear signs of malnutrition and vitamin deficiency.

“Am I supposed t’ pay you back? Cause’ I don’t have any money on me. I mean, I could go ‘get’ some, but you’d have to wait, sir.”

Placing one hand on the child’s head, Paz Vizsla did his best to keep his demeanor calm. “Please. Grant me a moment of silence.” They complied, looking at him wide-eyed. “Where is this ‘master’ of yours, young one. Where did you last see them?”

Using both of their calloused hands, they pushed Paz’s arm away. “It was a while ago. A long, long, long time.” Pausing, he could see their small body shake with one deep breath. “It was lesson time. And he was try’n to teach me how to heal. An’ I’ve never really been good at it.”

Anxiously, they pulled on the thin braid, neatly woven amongst the rest of their messy locks.

He allowed them a few moments to collect themselves before pressing them further. It was surely strange, their transition from bubbly to suddenly reserved. “If I am going to help you find your master, you need to tell me what you know.”

“There was an accident. And he got hurt, y’know? So, I tried what he had been teaching me. It started to look worse an’ worse, but he told me it was gonna be okay. And he’d come back. He said he’d come back.” Their eyes narrowed, determination stirring within them. “I went to look for help, but no one would come. And when I got back, he wasn’t there anymore. It was just his clothes.”

Struggling to process the child’s words, Paz could only clench his fists tightly. There were plenty of pieces missing to this sordid story. But clearly, something had happened to this little one’s guardian. Though if he was to take the information at face value, there were two options: either their ‘master’ had either vanished or been killed. He would need to coerce more information out. While he was a man of honor and if the man was alive, he wanted to return the child to him, but there was no reason to scour the galaxy for a dead man.

“But he’s comin’ back. He promised.”

Their voice was small, but he could tell, that this child had taken that promise to the core of their being.

***___***___***

Walking to the prefecture’s docking bay, Paz made sure to occasionally looked back to make sure the young one was still behind him. Fortunately, they had taken to holding onto an armor strap on the back of his leg in order to keep up with his enormous strides. They had slept soundly the previous night, giving him ample time to organize transport back Nevarro. Of course, it was still heavily occupied with ex-imperials, but he needed help and information, that of which only the Armorer could provide. If he was going to take this child into his care, he would need to be as prepared as possible.

The scene at the cantina had been jarring; his money strewn across the floor, a bleeding child running out the door and the ex-stormtrooper writhing on the floor, repeatedly stabbing himself over and over. Paz had been half-drunk, having come in when the establishment had been slow, giving him time to get drunk out of the view of others. With everything that had taken place in the day prior, how could he not? But even in his inebriated stupor, he could hardly believe his eyes as the trooped plunged his own blade into his thigh, apparently at the will of the young one, though even after the child had escaped, the imperial unable to take back control of his arm. The floor becoming oversaturated with his own blood. His cries were a clear indicator he couldn’t stop himself. Other patrons did their best to restrain the bloodied soldier as Paz went after the child. At first, he had expected some violent transient, someone capable of savage violence. Not a seemingly care-free child with enough energy to fuel ten starships.

Upon boarding the general transport, the young one’s mouth fell open.

“Whoa! I’ve never actually been in the main hold…Usually I gotta hide in with the cargo. Where are we going? Is it far? How long is it gonna take to get there?”

Once in the main hold, Paz made sure to keep the kid close, making sure they were seated together and away from anyone who looked upon the child with questionable eyes.

“Um, sir?” They asked, tugging at his arm.

“…yes?”

“Not to be a bother but do you have nay more of those bars? I’m kinda still hungry…”

Fishing another ration bar from his belt, Paz handed it to the child, watching them tear off the wrapper and start chewing it vigorously. It was the fifth in the past hour. He watched them curiously, noticing the layers of razor-sharp teeth digging into the food.

“…Are…Are you human?” He asked tentatively.

They paused their feasting, wiping a mess of crumbs from their mouth, considering his question for a moment. “I’m human shaped. But M’ not human.”

Paz could only nod at their strange answer as the ship took off, wondering what kind of life this young one would add to his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I love reading the comments and taking into account what people say!


	4. An Improvised Farce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very worrisome stranger approaches you on the transport to Nevarro, revealing a hidden, but different path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep fighting. Keep resisting. Stay safe, but always keep fighting. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

Every so often you would steal a glance at the mountain of a man beside you, almost expecting something strange to happen. But he remained stoic as ever, staring straight ahead, paying you no mind. He had grown tired of you asking every so often for a ration bar, handing you a few to keep you occupied while the starship stayed on course. They were extremely dense, and lacked flavor completely, but the bars were good to chew on and with each bite, you could feel yourself gaining back precious energy. When the last of the ration bars were gone, you decided not to ask the armored man for anymore, even though your stomach was far from satisfied.

You tried in vain to reach out into the force, to feel and search for some tangible emotion from this warrior, but there was nothing. Your master had always insisted that you would be soon able to utilize the living Force in such an emotive way. Years had passed and you had no such luck. No matter how long you meditated, no matter how many times your master had tried to strengthen your bond, it remained frayed.

“Child.”

Eagerly you turned to face the man, wondering what he might say.

“Wait here. I have to com someone.”

Nodding, you slumped in your seat, quite disappointed. When it seemed like nothing interesting was going to happen on the damned ship, someone slid in the armored warrior’s empty seat, gripping the sides of your arms. You froze, expecting some sort of blow, but it never came.

“You…” Before you was a young Noghri, certainly older than yourself, but just barely able to be considered a proper adult.

Her grip tightened significantly causing you to squirm uncomfortably. Perhaps if you just asked nicely…

“Were you the one in the Cantina the other night?”

You hadn’t considered the others watching, and there was always the possibility of more ex-imperial eyes watching.

“Eh, I’m. Uh…” Ever coherent, you simply wished that man would return sooner rather than later.

The Noghri’s eyes widened in realization. “You are! Maker! I should have been faster…But that is neither he nor there. Are you alright, young one?” Feeling her claws threaten to puncture your skin you were finally able to vocalize your discomfort.

“Miss! You’re scratching my arms!”

“Krif!” She immediately let go, the both of you looking at the fresh indentations on both sides of your arms. Rubbing them fervently, you hoped they wouldn’t scar.

“I truly am sorry about that,” she continued, “I just got so excited when I saw you, I had honestly thought you were dead!”

Glancing down the corridor the man left, you thought about going looking for him.

“Miss, I think you have me confused with someone else.” Smiling awkwardly, you could feel sweat begin to bead on the tip of your nose. “I’m pretty sure I don’t know you.”

The Noghri shook her head, “No, you don’t. But I have been keeping my eyes on you for some time now, but once I saw that Mandalorian take you, I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“The armored man?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Trust me young one. I know his kind. They’re formidable bounty hunters that are more than willing to do the dirty work for ex-Imperial scum.”

Not having a moment to register all that was being said, one of the co-pilots emerged from the cockpit, declaring the descent to the planet below: Nevarro.

“This is it.” The Noghri smiled, perhaps an attempt to comfort you, but even still, you had never been more confused and worried. “When we land, you’re coming with me.”

She made a grab for your hand, not even bothering to as for your say on the matter at hand.

“N-No!”

“No?” Gingerly this time, she placed her hands on your shoulders, careful not to puncture any skin with her claws. “You must understand I am not the enemy here. I’m here to help you. There is no need to be afraid! I was sent to find children like you!”  
  


The ship lurched forward roughly, signaling the landing process was complete.

“Come. It’s a long way to Coruscant from here.”

Her scaly hand wrapped around one of your own pulling you forward, causing the hair on your neck to stand on end. Where was the armored man? What had your master once told you? If an adult ever snatched, you that wasn’t him: Scream. Though before you could open your mouth, warm leather gripped your other hand, pulling you back. Each being, a formidable force, pulling your body in opposite directions, threatening to tear you in two. 

***___***___***

“Child, this is no-.” Paz paused, turning to see the young one looking desperately in his direction, their other arm in the grip of a stranger. Without warning them first, he leaned forward, roughly yanking their arm out of the strong grip of the other. To his surprise, they made no effort to squirm away from him, instead letting Paz Vizsla carry them with one arm.

“May I ask what the hell you were doing with my child.” He growled, not noticing the youth giving him an odd look.

Other passengers hastily left the ship, not bothering to spare a glance at the scene currently unfolding. The Noghri at first looked stunned, seemingly at the fact the child was calm at the present moment.

“T-That is not your child!” She protested, advancing forward. “Little one, please! Come with me. You don’t have to go with this…this…Mandalorian!”

“Who are you that you regard me and the sanctity of my people with such hostility?” 

The Noghri, stood upright, still not able to meet his eye. Clearly filled with pride, he could see her reach for something within the folds of her cloak. “I am a guardian of the New Republic! That child is coming with me!”

“Do we have a problem here?” From the corridor leading to the cockpit came the two pilots, certainly annoyed at all the ruckus.

Though Paz was ready to declare the Noghri as the source of all the discourse, the young, sprightly child beat him to the punch.

“That lady tried to take me away! It was so scary!” Their eyes went wide with feigned fear, Paz could feel their small hands grip his Beskar tightly.

“Is that so?” One pilot strode forward, placing a hand on the Noghri’s shoulder. “You two should make your way to your destination. We’ll finish taking care of this matter.”

“I-I! You don’t understand!” The stranger insisted. “I am of the New Republic!”

As they made their way off the ship, the child waved to the pilots, “Thank you sirs!”

Groaning, Paz jostled them slightly. “Enough of that. Are perhaps thinking you are some sort of actor?”

“Well she’ll leave us alone now, right?”

They smiled; perhaps it would have been endearing or even cute if not for the rows of sharp, pointed teeth. But better to be fearsome than adorable.

For a few minutes, they allowed him to walk in silence, too interested in the odd settlement of Nevarro. Seeing as he had found them on Stewjon, he doubted they had any experience in the outer rim territories. But them why hadn’t they wanted to go with that official back on the transport? Paz was glad the little one was allowing him to carry them. After all it took no effort at all, and it was keeping them from wandering off and out of his sight. Every so often he made sure to shift his grip as not to irritate their injury further.

“Where are we going?” They finally asked, looking at his curiously. “This place is strange.”

“To see a friend.” Paz admitted. “I know she will be able to help us.”

“Us…” The young one echoed. He realized the severity of his own words, but not for a single moment did he regret it.


	5. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz Vizsla takes you back to Nevarro to meet the Armorer, slightly nervous about your abilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy! had fun writing this and am writing more!

The Mandalorian Paz Vizsla carried you through the streets of the strange planet, often reminding you to keep your eyes to yourself as staring was quite rude. Though if someone was so interesting or odd looking how could you not stare? Of all the worlds you had visited, this was the first to seem entirely depraved. Though you had the pleasure of only ever being in the New Republic, such planets had their fair share of corruption, but it was well hidden or stowed carefully away.

“Little one, close your eyes.”

Scrunching up your face, you debated refusing. “Why?”

“…Because I said so.” Paz finally decided.

“That’s not a real reason,” You argued. “If you’re not gonna give me a reason, I’m not gonna do it.”

He seemed to consider your words for a moment, but then moved one hand to your head, its large entirety covering more than just your face.

“Hey!” Trying to push the man’s arm off of you was like trying to lift a dragon with one pinky finger. “Get off! This isn’t fair! You’re like ten million tons!”

When his hand finally came away, you were in what seemed to be an underground corridor, not unlike city sewer ways.

“Now was that so bad?” Paz Vizsla huffed.

Fixing the man with a determined stare, you wished you were old enough to take him on. “Yes!”

He sighed, continuing on his way. You noticed the tension held primarily in this Mandalorian’s shoulders eased, this must be his home. Looking around, you had difficulty adjusting to the darkness of this underground, finding it somewhat alarming and suffocating. You doubted this was his ideal home, for what human could stand to dwell within a sewer system? The man was certainly strong enough to take care of himself, not to mention you as well, but there was only one of him.

“You are going to meet someone very important, little one. Please, be respectful.”

Taking in the severity of his tone, you nodded, wondering what kind of person his friend might be. Paz Vizsla carried you into a strange room, a hearth of some sort at the center, a furious flame burning with a fearsome intensity. All around hung armor in various stages of their lives, almost identical to this Mandalorian’s. Though there were color differences and small intricate details that separated each piece.

“Armorer!” The Mandalorian called, his voice reverend, but still alarming enough to make you shudder.

From somewhere deeper within the underground came yet another Mandalorian emerged from the shadows. While certainly not as towering as Paz Vizsla, this new stranger put you on guard, your grip on Paz Vizsla’s shoulder growing tight.

“You have found a child, Paz Vizsla?”

Gingerly, he set you on the floor, your feet turning to ice as they touched the ground.

“Yes. This is young Y/N. As I told you earlier, they have been treated for their wounds and fed, but I need to make sure they are…okay.” What the hell had he said to them about you earlier?

The stranger nodded reaching out offering you a gloved hand. “There is no need for fear now, child.”

Considering you hadn’t a clue as to how to leave this room, the only options were to either start swinging or to simply go with this Armorer.

***___***___***

Y/N’s muscles visibly clenched, their gaze considering where they had first entered. Should they have made a move to escape, Paz wondered if he would have been able to catch them. Of course, he was larger, stronger, and more seasoned, but they were smaller, fit in tiny spaces, and had that unsettling, undeniably menacing power they seemed unable to control. Thank the stars the little one took the Armorer’s hand allowing her to lead them to a small stone table. In one swift movement, she placed the child on its surface.

“Is it alright if I lay hands on you?” She asked.

The child’s brow furrowed. “Are you gonna hurt me? What are you gonna do?”

“N-No. I am just checking to make sure you are healthy.”

“Oh!” Their face became calm. “Okay.”

Paz looked on nervously as his friend looked over the young one, testing their reflexes, checking their mouth, eyes and wound that he had wrapped. After checking their pulse, the Armorer seemed satisfied for the moment.

“They shall need proper meals and frequent hydration, but other than that, the wound is healing nicely and nothing else seems to be amiss. But what of the other issue?”

Y/N looked from Paz to the Armorer, looking for an explanation, only to find mutual silence if only for a few seconds. While he wasn’t concerned about the little one physically, there power put him on edge, and the Armorer was the only one save Din Djarin that had experience with such foreign abilities. And he was not about to ask Din for help. Retrieving a small tool from her assortment, the Armorer placed it beside Y/N.

“Child, can you lift his. Not with your hand, but with your magic.”

“Lift it?” They squeaked. “Did you tell her I have magic?”

Though he had never been sworn to secrecy they still seemed betrayed, giving Paz a deadly scowl. Nevertheless, Y/N turned to the tool, staring at it with strong concentration. The tool remained completely still, not moving a damn inch. One or two uncomfortable minutes passed by before Paz ordered them to stop.

“Stars, don’t hurt yourself, just stop!”

Sweat had started to drip down the sides of Y/N’s temples; obviously frustrated, they let out a string of curses and swears.

“Why the hell’d you make me do that?” They growled.

“It was just a test, little one.” The Armorer said gently. “There…There is another like you, a sorcerer, though he is off with his own father.”

“I’m not a sorcerer! I’m-.”

Paying Y/N no mind, she continued. “I wanted to see if you shared similar abilities, but it looks like I was wrong. Paz, you said this child was able to take down a stormtrooper on their own without touching a weapon, where is that power now?”

“I’m not sure.” He admitted offhandedly. “Perhaps the situation has to be extremely dire in order for the power to be summoned?”

“That is certainly a theory…”

Suddenly, they leapt up standing on the table, fists clenched. “Hello! I know it’s me you’re talkin’ about! Kark! Y’know its rude to talk about people like this!”

Somewhat shocked at the child’s outburst, the adults remained silent.

“I know I can’t do the Force basics, but you don’t have to rub it in and compare me to some other punk kid!” Done with their brief tirade, Y/N sat back down arms crossed and drawn close to their chest.

“I am truly sorry, young one.” The armorer apologized, glancing quickly at Paz.

“I as well. I’m sorry.”

A bit of a smirk appeared at the edge of their mouth. “Okay, I forgive both of you guys. But don’t do that, it makes me nervous.”

“Hm. Well, for now, I would refrain from using your powers. If it is something you cannot control, something you have not mastered the basics of, then it should not be utilized. It would be unwise and could harm others.” The Armorer informed him and the child. “Have you…Have you taken this little one in?”

In truth, Paz Vizsla had a sickening feeling something was wrong with the young one’s past. The story of their _master_ or whomever had been severely concerning. Only someone who dabbles in magic would just up and vanish. And honestly, Paz doubted this master was still alive, a concern he had voiced to his friend on his comlink, for why else would anyone abandon such a spirited youngster?

“Yes. But,” he said looking at Y/N, “We will also be looking for their ‘master’, their original caretaker. Though I am ready to take on such a role, but only if you will have me.”

Their eyes widened, smile illuminating their face. “Wait, are we going to travel together?”

Placing one hand on top of their small head, Paz could nearly feel the excitement radiating off of them. “We shall. I still will help you look for your master, but as of now, we are a clan.”

“Are you gonna teach me things? Oh man! Can I try your jetpack? Or is it heavy? I’m strong though, I can carry big things!”

He took that as an enthusiastic ‘yes’. Paz was certainly looking forward to teaching his child the culture of his people, the Way.


	6. Forgotten Teachings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spending more time in the underground on Nevarro yields a small revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so late! Thank you for your patience!

The following events of the day were nothing of great importance, however Y/N found each one quite interesting. First, the Armorer had Paz hold Y/N as she carefully took their measurements, which greatly confused the young child, resulting in the use of bribery which cost him four ration bars.

“You’re quite the scoundrel.” Paz sighed, tapping the child’s shoulder, making sure they kept their arms out for the Armorer.

“I can smell the other rations you guys have in here and I’m not gonna eat _that_!”

“Alright, young one. You’re all set.” The Armorer helped Y/N off the table, setting them carefully in the floor.

“Why’d you have to do that anyways?” The child asked tugging at their tangled hair.

The Armorer paused for a moment, drawing a dragon bone comb from a pouch, one often used to groom the fur of her cloak. But instead, she handed it to Paz who took it as a cue.

“Child, you cannot go out into the universe wearing…that.” She said cautiously.

Y/N grimaced as Paz started to run the comb through the mess of their hair, surprisingly, they made no protests.

“I love wearing this.” They tugged slightly at the hem of their garment. “It was my master’s.”

Poor Paz had to do all he could to keep of groaning. In all his experiences with children, prying something precious away from them never worked well.

“Well, what if I were to give you something better?” She offered, a bit of playfulness in her tone.

Y/N scoffed, offended by the mere idea. “What could be better than this?”

At that, Paz had to laugh. The garment must have been a much-loved cloak at one point, crafted more for an adult. However, Y/N had seemingly taken the initiative to cut off large parts to make a rough looking tunic that had countless holes and tears.

Paz’s friend sighed, “Paz Vizsla, why don’t you put the child to sleep, they look like they could use some rest.”

“But I’m not tired!” They whined as he pulled them towards the main quarters. “I don’t need to sleep!”

When they reached the corridor to the bunks, Paz could feel his body stop. The hollow ringing coursed through his ears, drowning out the little one’s blabbering. Each room’s door was securely shut, but Paz wondered if he wished hard enough if he would start hearing those familiar voices so cruelly silenced not long ago. If he wished hard enough perhaps one of those doors would open, one of his many old friends walking out to greet him heartily and perhaps even invite him to train. But instead there was nothing, just the incessant waves of silence drowning out the world. Paz could feel his lower lip tremble, but only slightly. Immediately, he bit down on the plump flesh hard to keep it from moving entirely, such a reaction was unacceptable. The salty taste of blood began to trickle down, lightly dampening the cloth undercovering of his helmet. To center himself, the Mandalorian took a deep breath, though it was far more desperate than he intended it to be.

“Sir!” Y/N tugged hard on his arm, though it didn’t move him much. “Sir! What’s wrong!?”

Still disoriented from his own thoughts, he looked down at the young one, thanking the ancestors they could not see his face.

***___***___***

That enormous Mandalorian stopped just short of a doorway, freezing entirely, one leg in front of the other as if he was about to continue advancing. For a moment you stopped as well, mimicking his exact movements, thinking this must have been some sort of test, something that was strange, but Mandalorian, so therefore something to be attempted. Though after seconds of uncomfortable silence, you felt a pang of anxiety in your chest, forcing your muscles to clench.

“Sir?” You whispered, making a feeble attempt to see through his visor. If you couldn’t see into it how the kriffing hell was he seeing out?

He shifted slightly, his shoulders falling, head dipping but an inch.

“Sir!” You kept your voice gentle but there was some edge to it.

Standing in front of this Mandalorian, you waved a hand upward toward his face. No reaction. Was he secretly a droid that had short circuited or perhaps had you unknowingly used some sort of Force ability on the poor man? Reaching out, you hesitated to touch him, but your worry surpassed such feelings. Wrapping both your hands around one of his wrists, you tugged with all your might.

“Stop it! You’re freaking me out! Please! Sir!”

Finally, he moved, looking down at you and then quickly about the corridor. “Wh-what?”

“You froze.” You let go of his wrist. “It was like you weren’t coming back.”

“My apologies…I was just thinking…” His pauses we far too long for your comfort, he was clearly choosing each word of his with a specific, annoying precision.

The warrior moved to open the large door before you both, though still needed to bow his head to avoid properly smacking it against the frame.

“This is your room?”

You were unsure of what sort of place a man like him would rest, but you had never expected it to be so incredibly bare. In one corner of the room was a simple bed, a durasteel frame holding up a mattress fitted with plain grey sheets. Fashioned similarly were a large chest and wardrobe of sorts, perhaps holding all of the Mandalorian’s worldly possessions.

“I am better suited to rest on the floor, so you may take the bed.”

Ignoring his words, you tried to shake off the strange intensity of uncertainty, it was so incredibly potent that your vision started to warp, in such a state it even made the man before you look like he was trembling.

“T-Thank you, but I need to…Sit for a second.” Disoriented, you plopped down on the cold floor, crossing your legs underneath yourself. “My master had me do this often.”

Even in your last few days together that man tried to quell your rambunctious behavior with many an hour of quiet meditation, insisting on its benefits, and perhaps if you would have just given it a chance, he often thought it would offer some sense of control when it came to your connection to the Living Force. At first you made fun of the very idea, hiding and running off whenever your master instructed you to join him, but very slowly, you came to enjoy being as still as you could be. Many years ago, your teacher had learned the art of meditation from his own master in the Jedi Temple long before the fall. The way he reminisced on the divine beauty of the temple and the fervid bonds with his fellow Jedi made your heart swell with joy.

But this was not an attempt at control of power.

“A common meditation pose is like this.” Your words were more for yourself than anything else, however, Paz followed suit, sitting next to you in the same fashion. “You have to close your eyes…My master would speak of clearing one’s mind, but I wasn’t really any good at that…I think it’s because I wasn’t listening the whole time…”

“What else?” Paz Vizsla asked. Through the helmet his voice was distorted, but you could hear it waver just slightly.

“Well…I would be playing too much or playing tricks and then we’d sit like this together…Mast would tell me to pay attention to my feelings, like sadness, happiness and enjoyment…. And to think on them!”

Opening one eye, you peeked at your new companion. “You gotta keep your back straight, no slouching.” Gritting your teeth, you realized how much you sounded like your old master, maybe somewhere he was smiling. “I forget the rest, but I-I know it’s supposed to bring peace, it always does! It always did.”

“Feelings…My feelings…”

He sounded just a bit calmer, and at the same moment your body began to break free of the consuming anxiety. While unsure of how long the both of your remained still together, you could feel something begin to grow, something void of physicality, yet still at the center of your being.


	7. Just Alike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the armorer offers you a gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda just a bit of fluff but honestly we all need more of it these days <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Ugh…Child? Did you sleep last night?” Sitting upright, Paz looked down at the floor where he had given his little one a few pillows to rest on, only to find them stacked neatly except for one, and the child nowhere to be seen. Startled at their absence, Paz Vizsla shot out of his bed, throwing the door to his quarters open with great force, hoping they had not run off during the night.

Though, just as he was about to call out for the armorer, Paz slid into the forge, noticing something small at the foot of the great flame. There the child lay, clinging to one of his pillows with a furious grip, body curled in on itself. And in the corner sat the Armorer, polishing perhaps the smallest set of armor Paz had ever laid eyes on.

“You would do well to wake the little one, Paz Vizsla.” His friend said, gesturing to the child.

Pursing his lips, he approached the young one, careful how he took each step as not to accidentally frighten them. Though they didn’t seem to be the frightable type and even if they were, such a moment would last but half a second.

“Hm, I do believe the sun has risen. Therefore, we must do the same.”

The child groaned, taking a few moments to open their eyes and focus on him before offering a toothy grin.

“Yay! You slept last night!” Y/N sat up rubbing the remaining sleep form their eyes. “I knew meditating had to be good for somethin’.”

“You can tell when I’m sleeping?” He asked awkwardly. 

They nodded, stifling a laugh. “Hehe, yeah. You snore.”

“Little one, it is not very polite to make light of another’s habits, especially that of your buir.” The Armorer chided. “As your buir, he is to be respected. Unless of course, he gives you reason not to.”

Y/N nodded, jumping to their feet.

“Little one, come here, I have something for you.”

Ah. So that was what the armor was for.

The child raised a brow, cautious at first as to what the woman was offering them. “What is it?”

“Well if you would come here, I can show you.” The Armorer sighed.

Y/N relented, walking over to where his friend sat, but not before grabbing Paz’s hand to pull him along.

“What do you think? I do believe that this is far better than the…garment you are wearing!”

In all honesty, the entire ensemble was quite…adorable. Comfortable trousers, a long sleeve tunic with a high collar; all fitted with armor, matching the blue hue of his own Beskar. It was an excellent start for a young Mandalorian, Y/N had much growing and strengthening to do. A full set of armor would have been far too much for young one.

“…What is it? It looks kinda funny.” The child reached out, daring to touch a single finger to the cold metal of the plated armor.

“It’s for you, child.” Paz took the clothing from the armorer to hold it up against Y/N. “If we are going to venture out, you are going to need more than just a thread bare tunic.”

“What?! I like this!” They protested; small fists clenched by their sides.

“Child, if you were to go about this planet past nightfall, you would surely freeze to death.” The Armorer’s voice tensed only slightly, something only one of the covert would notice. “you would be wise to heed my word.”

“No!” They cried out. “T-Thank you for making this for me.” Pausing the child looked frantically between both Mandalorians. “I can’t give this up! Please! You gotta understand!”

***___***___***

There was no way in kriffing hell that these two were going to steal away the last physical memory you had from your old master. Of course, having something that would cover you properly would make an excellent improvement from your current…situation.

“May I ask why that thing is of such great importance to you?”

The other Mandalorian, while a head or so shorter than Paz Vizsla was vastly more intimidating. In the entirety of your time in their underground dwelling, she had been nothing but kind, in a stoic sort of fashion. But your senses begged you not to test her patience, after all she was giving you a gift that she had crafted herself in the late hours of the night.

Pursing your lips, you decided just offering the truth would be in your best interest. Running off or putting up a fight would be futile.

“It…It was my master’s cloak…He just disappeared, leaving it behind. I…I didn’t have anything else with me and I cut it so I could get some use out of it…”

Both adults exchanged looks if one could even call it that. Maybe they had some sort of secret connection like the Force. With the both of them wearing helmets it was physically impossible to tell what sort of facial expressions both of them were making. Your guardian moved to kneel in front of you, even then he was still very much a mountain of a man.

“Please…” You begged, feeling tears well up, distorting your vision. “It’s all I have left…”

“I know,” Paz started, “But do you have memories of your old master? Can you envision them? Feel them in your heart even though they are no longer of this world?”

“Yes…I guess so.”

“While this is clearly a great treasure of yours, I do believe that it will be of no use sooner rather than later. And do you truly expect to live out all of your days wearing this? Besides, every warrior needs to be protected. What say you?”

You glanced back over at what the other Mandalorian had so painstakingly crafted for you. Once Paz Vizsla had fallen asleep, you couldn’t bear to wake him asking for a covering of some sort as the underground was much colder after nightfall. Unable to find slumber, you ventured out of the man’s close quarters in search of warmth. All of the other barracks, were locked and secure, leaving no way in unless you tried to use the Force to undo the locks. Though you had promised not to use your power until you had a better handling of it. Instead, you wandered back into the forge, immediately you were drawn to the brilliant hearth, the flame still brilliant among the frigid darkness. After placing down the pillow Paz Vizsla had offered, you curled up tight next to the hearth, quite comfortable in its intense warmth. You weren’t sure what hour it was but at some point, light steps jarred you from your slumber, though not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you only opened one eye. There she stood over the heat of the fire, tool in hand, hammering away at hot metal. This almost seemed like a forbidden moment, to look upon the reverence of which she worked.

“Little one?” The Mandalorian Paz Vizsla’s voice removed you from your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh yeah. I…I guess you’re right.” You dared to look directly at the Armorer, doing your best to feel grounded. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Thank you for this gift, I’ll do my best to be worthy of it.”

Nodding, she placed the clothing and armor in your arms, the weight nearly sending you to the ground. The blue of the armor matched that of Paz Vizsla’s own, stirring up inside of you a strange sense of pride.


	8. Hand in Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Paz Vizsla ready yourselves with the help of the Armorer for the long road ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! I've been really depressed and things have been super overwhelming. But I should be posting more regularly now!

“I thought you were gonna take me hunting!” You huffed, taking in deep breaths.

“Change of plans, little one.” Paz stated simply. “I will prepare something later, but for now I want to see the extent of your abilities.”

Exhausted from all the exercise your new guardian had put you through, you stayed laying on the ground.

“But I don't want to do anymore! I'm tired! And hungry!”

Those heavy footsteps drew closer until they were right by your head; string arms lifted you easily off the ground, setting you back upon your feet.

“Can you honestly not bear any more? He asked.

Stretching out your muscles, you could feel a second wave of energy coming. The fact that you had eaten the night prior most certainly helped.

“I can move...” You admitted.

With that Paz ordered you to do another run from the nearest docking station to where he stood a bit of a ways away. Your new armor added plenty of resistance to your usually light cadence, but even still, you were plenty fast. Upon your return, the Mandalorian Paz Vizsla guided you back to his hideout, still making sure to cover your eyes on the way in. Perhaps he was just overly cautious of bringing someone new into his home, though on the almost certain chance the two of you were separated, you would have no idea how to find this new safe haven.

“Oh. Excellent, the both of you have returned. Paz, I have prepared what you asked of me.”

Tearing away the fabric that covered your eyes, you found yourself again the in the forge, the Armorer handing you a common blaster, offering you a stiff nod. She gestured to the opposite end of the room, where three hastily made targets were set up.

“They are made of durasteel, so you need not worry of the shots deflecting off of the targets.”

The weapon was quite heavy in your young hands, the weight could have dragged one of your arms down on its lonesome.

“So...you want me to...”

Both Mandalorians nodded, nearly in sync.

“If we are going to search the galaxy, I want to know how capable you are. Surely you have skill to have survived thus far.”

While you were certainly flattered by this slight praise, you credited your survival to pure luck more than skill. Nevertheless, you held the blaster with both hands, raising your shoulders far too much than needed. Your focus was squarely on the first target, and slipping your finger down to the trigger, you fired. Surprisingly the recoil wasn't terrible, only jerking your body slightly. However, your first shot simply grazed the outside of the first target. Frustrated, you were quick to retake your shoddy stance and fire once more, this time the shot actually knocked the target over, but it was still, for the most part, intact. Feeling heat rise in your face, one hand gripped the blaster tighter and fired, grazing the last of the durasteel targets.

“KRIFFING HELL!” You yelled, very close to throwing the blaster across the forge.

With tired eyes, you looked over to Paz Vizsla who was seemingly looking to the Armorer for an opinion. When he found none, the man walked over, taking the blaster out of your hands.

“...It could have been much worse, A'dika. At least you managed to hit the target. One cannot say the same for the damn Imperials.”

“Thanks...”

“Come, little one. Let us get something to eat. Tomorrow we start our journey.”

***___***___***

That night, you could hardly find even a shred of exhaustion to help you fall into a deep slumber. Well, your body did indeed ache from all that physical testing and conditioning Paz Vizsla had you do during the day. But still, you mind raced with countless thoughts about the sojourn to come. Would you actually find you old master? If they were still out there then why hadn't they come looking for you? Perhaps they were incapable of coming to look for you, making it the duty of the apprentice to seek out the master.

That night, you had the small room to yourself, Paz and the Armorer having time to themselves elsewhere. Laying completely flat on the floor, you tried to find focus among the torrent of thoughts still keeping your mind occupied. It took a long while for you to expel unwanted thoughts from the recesses of your mind, but once that was taken care of your tried desperately to search for the connection you once had with your young master. Initially, the connection had been weak, frayed from the very beginning, but there had been something. Now, while you reached out into the living Force, you found nothing, just a void where the fractured connection had once been.

Relaxing back into the present moment, you plopped your head back onto the pillow Paz Vizsla gave to you. There had been tales, stories of Jedi who would have contact with their masters posthumously. Some seemingly transcending death and appearing before their living apprentices. Why couldn't your master come and see you? On the off chance they had gone and become a part of the Force, wouldn't they at least try and come see you one last time?

The following morning you could feel the lack of sleep as it weighed heavily upon your eyelids, threatening to shut them against your will. The Mandalorian Paz Vizsla led you back into the forge where the Armorer hunched over her work.

“Ah, you are awake. Good.”

She quelled the wild flames of the fire setting aside her metalwork for the time being. The luminous woman gathered up a few carefully wrapped bundles before approaching you and your new guardian.

“Inside these are all you could need for a good while. I urge both of you to be careful in your ventures. Little one.”

The Armorer shifted to meet your questioning gaze, her hands resting heavily on your shoulders. Of course her face was completely covered with her helmet, voice just slightly distorted. But even still, the strong sincerity in her tone was palpable.

“Remain steadfast by his side, little one. Do you understand? Paz is a good man, and though you have not known him for very long-”

“I know.” You stated, glancing back at the enormous Mandalorian. “I trust him.”

“Good.” She reached into the folds of her cloak revealing something shining. “Here this is for you.”

Your eyes were immediately captivated by the object's bright sheen. Though you wanted nothing more than to snatch it immediately, you waited until the Armorer nodded, allowing you to take it form her gloved hand. It was a curious item, several thin twists of metal, bound together in a curious fashion by design and small bolts.

“I can guarantee it will take you some time to take this apart. But no cheating.” She chided.

Nodding you started to fumble with the puzzle, wandering aimlessly while the adults spoke.

***___***___***

“That was very kind of you.” Paz mused.

“You will find keeping young one entertained or at the very least occupied is quite a feat.” The Armorer sighed. “Here. These are for the child.” Paz Vizsla was handed a small kit, full of vials and such. “They still have a ways to go before they are to be completely healthy. You are to administer one of these everyday. I recommend before they are to rest for the night.”

“What are these?” He asked, his jaw clenching.

“Some are common vaccinations, and others are medications for a host of ailments, but overall they are in good condition. Paz? Are you alright? Don't grip the kit like that or you shall break everything!”

“S-Sorry.” Loosening his hold, he took a deep breath. “But are you truly expecting me to give that child a shot?”

“I know children are not very fond of them, but it must be done.”

“I know they are not kriffing fond of them, but you need to understand, the child, without lifting a finger, nearly eviscerated a storm trooper!”

Paz could feel the Armorer's annoyance. “Need I remind your that they are a child and you are the adult? Steel yourself, Paz Vizsla. You have faced things far worse. Now, Are you prepared for departure?”

He nodded, having stowed the bundles into a rather large pack, everything was indeed ready, the supplies as well as the young one, dressed properly in Mandalorian style clothing and scant armor. Nothing too heavy and not much of it, but just enough to condition the child for further

additions.

“Y/N!” Paz Vizsla called, the kid looking up from their new toy. “Are you ready?”

Giving an odd toothy smile, they rushed to his side. “Yeah! Where are we going first? I'm not sure where to go actually. Do you think we'll see any dragons? I'm not sure. I hope so! I've always wanted to see a dragon!”

Initially the Mandalorian found Y/N's bouts of chatter a bit too much, but very slowly it was becoming endearing. Catching him by surprise, Y/N slipped their hand in his as they navigated the busy streets of Nevarro, feeling almost natural. When a wandering Imperial eye would wander their way, he found Y/N would


	9. Dead Man's Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and your new guardian set off to Tatooine to find a starship for your travels. But in a moment of weakness, your curiosity gets the better of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the Mandalorian so much I love writing these stories! I hope you all enjoy!!

“Primary goal: we need a star ship.” Paz muttered mostly too himself.

Young Y/N leaned over to look at what Pas had pulled up on his worn holopad. Much to their disappointment there was no array of star ships on the screen only a conversation in a language you couldn't make heads or tails of.

“What does that say?” You asked loudly, pointing directly at a word Paz had typed quite aggressively. “I...I think I've heard it before. Doesn't it mean ha-”

“Nope!” Without warning, Paz covered your mouth with a hand, before the rest of the word had a chance to roll off your tongue.

With both of your hands, you pried Paz's hand from your face, “S'not like I was gonna actually say it...”

The Mandalorian sighed, putting the data pad away, instead bringing out a holomap. The transport was nearly empty, so he was able to shrug off some of the natural anxiety that came with being out in the world for extended periods of time. You on the other hand seemed to be perfectly fine, not bothering much with your surroundings and still maintaining a lively energy. He was thinking to himself for just a moment too long.

“So...Are you going to show me where we're goin' or what?” You asked, trying to grab the device.

Paz Vizsla moved it just out of reach, switching it on. Blue light burst forth in a wave of unusual elegance, the map illuminating your face. Your guardian pointed out different planets and stars, tracing your current path with a gloved finger. As interesting as all those names and numbers were, the planets themselves were something to behold. With just a light touch, a single planet could be enhanced, illustrating its key features. To think that now you were going to once again be able to travel among the stars without fear! If only your master could have seen you.

“So, I want you to stay by my side the whole time. Y/N. Are you listening?” The man sighed once more. “Y/N, listen. Come back to me. “

He lightly snapped his fingers, drawing you out from your thoughts. “Huh?”

“I said that I need you to be at my side. Tatooine has no patience with naivety. Hold onto me if you must.”

Nodding, you wondered what type of port you would be landing at. “Is that where we're going to get a ship?”

“Yes, young one. Remember that use of your...powers is on hold for now. Until you can use them _**safely**_ , there will be none of it.”

Groaning, you threw up your hands. “But what if something happens!? I don't have the strength of a Nexu, without the Force I'm dragon bait!”

“If you listen to me, you shall be just fine.” Paz patted them on the back, his strength a tad overwhelming, sending the kid lurching forward.

Still, the little one gave him a wry smile. “You can promise that you're gonna _**always**_ be with me?”

He had no answer.

They slipped back into their seat, swinging their feet back and forth. “I know you can't. No one can do somethin' forever. I'm just scared I guess.” He watched them anxiously pick at the leather straps of their pristine, new armor. “I really don't wanna die as a kid, y'know?”

“I...I do know.” He said calmly.

The child nodded, nudging him lightly in the side. “I kind of figured. Man, it'd be nice to live a little and see things...”

“Y/N.”

They turned their head, those inquisitive eyes, somehow meeting his gaze right through his visor, most didn't know where to look, unable to even glance at him.

“Look at me.” Even though they already were, he couldn't let them know.

Swiftly, Y/N righted themselves and moved in the seat until they stood on direct eye level. “You're gonna say something serious, aren't you?”

“Yes. While I may not always be at your side, during the times that I am, I will do all I can to give you the best life you deserve.”

Y/N's mouth opened to speak, but Paz held up a finger to silence them.

“Don't you dare say you deserve otherwise.”

Without warning, the ship rocked, jarring both of them.

“WE'VE DOCKED. PASSENGERS CAN NOW LEAVE THE CABIN.” The pilot shut the com off, opening the hatch. Paz stood, beckoning you to follow and you did, making sure to at least stay in line with the Mandalorian's shadow.

***___***___***

Swear poured down the sides of your head, and dripped down from your brow, making your eyes sting. At first the prospect of wearing armor, was alluring, making you feel like a hero of old. High above, the twin suns beat down on the planet, making you move at the pace of a snail. Force, how Paz Vizsla was able to march ahead unperturbed.

“Can...Can we take a break?” You groaned melodramatically. “I'm gonna melt!”

“Are you drinking your water?” The man asked, glancing back.

Growing sheepish, you shook your head. “No...It's warm now.”

“Just a little further and we will rest for a bit. We really must hurry if we are going to meet the buyer.”

With a gloved hand, you wiped your forehead. “Why can't we break now?”

The Mandalorian took a breath, checking his com to see if there were any new notices. “Y/N are you truly exhausted?”

Weakly, you nodded, hoping he wouldn't insist on pressing further. To your good fortune, Paz Vizsla beckoned you to come forward. Sluggishly, you did, and to your surprise, he knelt, and turned his back.

“We don't have much time to waste. You can just hang onto my armor, alright?”

“Kark! Awesome!” With a smile, you latched onto the Mandalorian's back, holding onto the straps of the forged plates.

  
“Watch your mouth, Y/N.” He chided, standing and shifting to accommodate you. “Not until you are older.”

“Hm, we'll see.”

Even with you hanging on him, the Mandalorian Paz Vizsla, forged ahead, not slowing down a bit. The lifeforms on this planet were diverse to put it lightly. Never before had you seen such an array of peoples before. Traveling with your master, the both of you tended to stay away from the rest of civilization. A precaution that your old teacher had insisted upon. The urge to stare was far too much for you to handle, and so you gave in, looking at nearly everyone that passed by. Quite often you were observed right back, your curious stare met with tense scowls and strange smirks.

“Staring is rude, A'dika. I know this is all new for you, but you will find that the inhabitants here are far less than kind.”

You grumbled, pulling the hood of your short cloak up so no one could look at you. The rest of the walk was less than a mile, Paz finally stopping at the entrance of an extremely worn looking star ship hangar. The main door was shut though, large sections of durasteel were missing, having been stripped away by some monstrous force. Leaping down from the Mandalorian, you glanced at him with a worried look.

“We'll be fine.”

Tentatively, you trailed behind him, tense, waiting for something to happen.

Without pressing the door switch, the hangar entrance started to open, the harsh noise making your hair stand on end. From the dark inside came a rather sickly looking figure, ghoulish in complexion, hunched over, gaunt arms swinging from side to side with this new character's gait. His nearly toothless smile regarded your guardian, but then his white eyes looked down upon you.

“You never said you were bringing a kriffing child.” The brute growled.

“They are mine, they travel with me-”

“No children!” His sudden yell sent him into a coughing fit. “Leave the child outside or we don't have a deal!”

You could see Paz tap his fingers against the side of one of his blasters. Sighing, he turned and kneeled to speak to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Listen. It's won't-”

“Make up your mind! I don't have all day!”

Paz Vizsla merely turned his head. “If you raise your voice at me or my child again, I will shoot you where you stand.”

The ghastly man closed his gaping mouth.

“Forgive me, Y/N. It won't be very long. I just need to make this deal and we'll be on our way.”

“So I'm just gonna have to be out here alone?” You looked around, wary of how many strangers were wandering about.

“Everything will be alright.” Paz assured you. “Find somewhere close to hide. Wait there until I call for you, understand?”

That bastard behind the Mandalorian glared your way when you met his gaze. You wanted to put up some sort of protest, but decided against it.

“Okay...Can...Can you be quick?”

He chuckled, standing up tall. “I will do my best, A'dika. Don't worry. I'll come looking for you.”

Those curious twin suns, had started to fall, giving way to the majesty of night. No matter what planet you traveled to, the night sky had always remained perfectly beautiful. Heeding the Mandalorian's word, you scampered to the alley way next to the hangar, trying to find someplace unsuspecting, but comfortable. Not wanting to take cover in the dumpster nearby, you crawled up on the roof of the adjacent building, keeping low to the ground. Seconds flew by, then minutes, an hour and them another. The suns were gone by now, leaving you under the luminescence of the moon and stars.

“It's so kriffing cold...Hurry up...”

It had taken most of your self control not to go off and investigate the numerous interesting sounds, smells and sights. The Mandalorian Paz Vizsla had given you kind, but strict instructions to wait for him, but that had been ages ago. To wait a moment longer would make you go insane.

“A few minutes wouldn't hurt.”

With your enthusiasm piqued, you jumped to your feet, looking for your own adventure. By the time you had wandered off into the night, Paz strode out of the hangar, a sudden sinking feeling making his heart race. He yelled out your name. Once. Twice. Three times and nothing. He quickly checked over his jet pack, knowing a good scolding would be in order. Maker, nothing better have happened to them, so help him.


	10. Another Weird Kid...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stranger finds you in someplace you do not belong and offers their help. The stranger seems to find the encounter a little unusual, not one to be forgotten. 
> 
> Unexpectedly, Paz runs into the infuriating Din Djarin.

The atmospheric duality of the planet was truly something, the sweltering heat of the day vanishing completely, the nearly frigid cold taking hold. Somehow the Armorer had crafted your clothing and armor, in such a fashion, neither heat or cold was a death sentence, the ill-prepared layman had no chance of survival. You had been that way not long ago. Perched atop a building in the center of the port city, you had a fantastic view of life down below. Speeders flew by, thieves laying in wait for the occasional, unsuspecting victim, crowds shifted by one another, not one seeming at comfort.

Your long ears perked up at the sound of vivacious music, ringing throughout the streets. The melody unlike anything you had heard before. Your master had sang many songs about Jedi and great Force authorities of old, great tales of discovery and reverence. In your opinion the best one were that of grand adventure, but your youthful master admonished you for that, saying that while those ballads may be wonderful, they were a bit less than humble.

This sound was unlike anything else, making you want to stand up and dance around like a fool. Instead, you stealthily snaked your way down the building, weaving in between civilians and visitors alike until you were standing outside the entrance of the massive cantina, debating if this was going to be worth the potential trouble. The last on you had been in was on Stewjon where that kriffing trooper decided to slash you open with a vibroblade.

Deciding the risks were minimal, you crouched behind a group entering, slipping past the guard unnoticed. Once inside, the music became drastically more erratic than sonorous, lights of numerous colors flashing, making your eyes sting. Patrons of many cultures danced around to the strong beat of the music, crashing into you without care. Overwhelmed by the assault on all your senses, it was only made worse when you felt a hot sensation against the shell of your ear.

“OoOOoH. What do we have here? I don't think I've s-”

When the perpetrator's hand laid on your arm, you sprang into action. At once, you seized the fiend's arm, dragging them forward with all your might, still hanging on, you bared your teeth and bit down hard. The drunk quarren let out a strangled scream, and you let go, allowing him to draw back his bleeding arm and clutch it to his chest.

“Ugh!” You retched. “That was foul!”

Noticing the stares starting to moved your way, you moved away, heading towards the bar which offered a decent spot to watch the musicians on stage. A small section of stools were unoccupied, so you knelt down to hide under the edge of the counter. Truthfully, it was difficult to focus on the music when the environment was so grossly overwhelming. Each note sent a wave through your body, making your head pound. The incessant chatter and screaming was so shrill, it took all the self control you had not to do something about it.

“Hey, kiddo. You alright there?”

Eyes that were once glued shut flew open, nervously seeing a pair of boots. Following them led to a stern man, hands settled on his hips. He was quite becoming for a human man, subtly sculpted features, a voice that had the potential to be friendly, and warm brown hair.

“What's a young kid like you doing in a place like this, huh?” He asked.

Too stunned to answer, you wondered if you would be able to make it through the dense crowds swiftly.

“Hey!” The man stated sharply. “Don't get any funny ideas, okay? Do you have a parent or guardian or something?”

The question threw you. A master who was missing? Yes. A Mandalorian warrior who was helping you find said master? Yes. Parent? No?

“Um. I-I don't know.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose a second before offering you his hand. “I think I saw one like you outside, looked pretty worried. C'mon.”

You didn't want to. Only a fool would take the hand of a man they didn't know. At any moment he could try and attack. At this point in time, you were stronger and more focused than you had been in a long while. This was simply one human man, he could put up a fight, but surely you would be victorious if need be.

Nodding, you let the man help you to your feet and pull you through the dancers and those reveling in the sweet madness.

“The name's Solo.” He huffed, keeping his grip tight. “This ain't no place for a kid y'know?”

“Tch, Mr. Solo, you're not my father.”

Without warning, he turned on his heel, jerking you suddenly. “I know I'm not your father and don't call me that!”

Scowling, you fixed the man with a harsh glare. “I'll think about it, Mr. Solo.”

***___***___***

Clenching his fists, Paz regarded the man before him with begrudging respect.   
  


“What brings you here, Din Djarin?” He asked coolly, softening a bit at seeing the baby sleeping in its carrier.

“I could ask you the same thing.” There was an abundant pause. “But I don't care.”

He had hardly said a thing and Djarin was already being such a kriffing bastard, if it were not for the baby, he would have walked over in two strides and given Din a piece of his mind. He was of course overly tense because the child in his care had run off. Maker, it better have been of their own volition or else Paz would start to lose his mind.

“I don't have time for your blatant disrespect. Answer me this, have you seen a young child running about? Mandalorian clothing....Humanoid...”

Din Djarin shifted uneasily. “What. Since when do you have a child?”

“That is not for you to know, I only asked if you had seen such a child.” Paz snapped, annoyed by the hint of venom in the other's voice.

The tiny, green baby wheezed awkwardly as his father took a few steps forward, moving into Paz Vizsla's personal space. At least he had the pleasure of being able to look down on Din, he having to crane his neck upwards.

“If it's my help you are trying to get my help, you're going about it the wrong kriffing way.”

By simply flexing his fingers, one could hear the small chorus of crackling coming through his gloves. Somewhere in this port, Y/N could be in danger and here he was being insulted by this son of a-

“There! There! That's him!”

“Hey! Calm down kid! You're gonna rip off my arm!”

Pushing Din Djarin aside, Paz could see from far off, young Y/N tugging the arm of a handsome, disgruntled looking man. He went forward to meet the child who excitedly jumped up and hugged him tightly.

“Found you!” They laughed, sharp teeth flashing.

The stranger sighed. “ _ **You**_ didn't find em'. _**I**_ did. _**You**_ were the one hiding under the bar in the Cantina.”

“What?” Vizsla plucked the kid off of him, holding them up in the air. “You went inside a Cantina?! I thought I told you to hide someplace close and stay there until I was finished?”

From behind he could hear Din laugh quietly to himself, that kriffing idiot was probably jeering under his shiny, little helmet.

“Uh, well, I guess there are your fathers. I'll let you guys be.” The handsome man turned to leave.

“We're not'-!” It was no use, the stranger didn't care and kept walking until he vanished into the sea of people.

“Bye, Mr. Solo!” Y/N yelled.

Gently, Paz placed the kid on the ground, looking them over for any injuries, no matter how minimal they might be. Only a couple of scuffs here and there and tired eyes. He took a small med kit from a pouch, cleaning the scrapes making sure they would not get infected.

“What the hell were you thinking, A'dika?”

“You took forever!” They whined, their eyes distracted by something else. “I thought I'd just look around y'know?”

“No. I don't know” Paz pocketed the kit. “Maker, Y/N, would you look at me?”

The child blinked a few times before fixing their gaze on him. “You never told me there were even more!”

They gestured to Din who had the audacity to still be standing, observing something that did not involve him in the slightest...

“I didn't think you would be meeting him...much less so soon.” He growled.

Y/N shook their head, moving closer to Din against Paz's wishes. The other Mandalorian tensed, not liking them in his space, but he remained calm.

“That is Din Djarin, young one. He is a Mandalorian like me.”

They smiled, showing once again, those razor sharp teeth. “Kinda figured!” They shrugged. “Whoa, cool baby, mister.”

Din watched stiffly as Y/N offered the baby a finger which his son took. The eyes of Paz's child grew wide, what sort of strange greeting was this?

“Kark...” The older child breathed.

“Y/N, watch your tongue.” Paz stated flatly.

“Hey, he's like me!”

Both Mandalorians looked at one another, though neither of them could see the other's face, both could feel the same chilling anticipation.

***___***___***

Your guardian and his friend had made it safely back to the hangar of the ghoulish man, who luckily was fast asleep. Though no one could see him, you could definitely hear him. The uneasiness he gave you was greatly overshadowed by the excitement coursing through your body. Not only had you met a very unusual yet adorable baby, that baby happened to have a strong connection to the living Force. Not to mention you had met the third Mandalorian in your life. The man wasn't much for talking. The whole walk back you tried asking him questions about his little boy, to which he would simply grunt in reply. Not entirely useful, but perhaps he was just shy.

“So, Mr. Djarin, what kind of things can your baby do? Can he lift stuff? Without touching it of course. Can he levitate? Or make people-”

“Alright, A'dika.” Paz laid his hands on your shoulders moving you in front of him and away from his friend. “That's enough for one night. Go board the ship, I set up sleeping arrangements for you. Alright?”

“But I wanna talk to the baby!” You protested.

Hand on his hips, Paz stood between you and the little one who was pulling at one of the straps of his carrier. Your guardian moved to the closest wall, throwing a switch upwards, bringing dozens of fluorescent lights alive, but they were perhaps less than dim, casting only a soft glow. Under the light was a fair looking star ship, certainly not anything lavish, but not scrap metal either. A flagship of sorts, rather flat in design was parked with its bay door wide open, the thick outer durasteel, gray with a marks of deep, dark purple. You looked back at the others, locking eyes with the baby. You would see each other again. And if fate didn't allow for that to happen, you would make it so.


	11. Fledgeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Paz settle into his new ship; he prepares to take on a paid mission to bring in some money, leaving you with the task of remembering where your old master might be. And a long forgotten thought of yours has sudden implications.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter! Sorry it took so long, I've been struggling with my depression.   
> My inbox on Tumblr is @daviwrites if anyone wants to send in requests!

The smell of the ship was rather questionable, not rank, but definitely not desirable. Walking cautiously, you entered what must have been a garage, the oil and grease stained floor made that clear enough. Evidently, Paz had done his best to organize their new craft, and you were surely going to have to help in this great endeavor, after all there were still plenty of crates and boxes strewn about. While wandering through the ship you found the cargo hold where a little corner had been completely cleared out of any clutter and debris, and hung between the walls, where they met to form a corner a considerable hammock had been set up. Tucked on top of the canvas were several blankets, each with a different design woven into it. Even though it was high up you leapt into your new bed, sinking into the surprisingly soft fabric.

“I take it that you like your new sleeping arrangement, young one.”

Peeking your head from the brim of the hammock, you leered at the Mandalorian towering above you.

“I wanted to say hi to the baby,” scrunching up your nose, you fought back a sudden surge of ferocity. “Why did you guys have to be jerks to each other?”

Paz Vizsla sighed, striding over to lean against a wall. “There are many things that children will never understand. One of them being adult relationships.”

Your eyes widened, “You guys are in a relationship?!”

“NO!” Paz snapped quite suddenly.

“Oh...” You sunk into the hammock, feeling just a bit scolded.

Clearly there was an intense animosity of sorts between the two Mandalorians, the emotions were palpable within the first twenty feet upon your arrival and first meeting. There was something strong between them, not a hate by any means, there was no malice that you could detect, yet Paz could not stand the other and Din Djarin could not stand Paz. Lost in your though, you slumped further, as sudden discomfort spreading across your back.

“What?” Your guardian asked rather quickly, noticing you wince in pain.

“N-Nothing...Where's the fresher again?”

“Find the main corridor and it will be on the third left.” There was a hint of suspicion in his voice, but he kept any questions to himself.

Once out of the hammock, you quickly scrambled for the refresher, reminding yourself to not look back. The pain was bearable, nothing to groan about, there was no need to seek aid. However, if your suspicions were true, there was more discomfort to be had. With the refresher door locked securely, you were quick to shuck off your armor, clothes following suit. The room was a little worse for wear, but a luxury as far as you were concerned. With only your small clothes remaining, you turned to the mirror, eyes looking over your scars, albeit briefly. The newest addition was healing quite nicely, if you were lucky perhaps it would fade completely. Turning back around, you twisted your head around to try and see the source of your sudden irritation.

“Oh kark.” You breathed.

It was as you expected. Between your shoulders, two bumps were barely visible. With one had, you tentatively, snaked your arm up to feel around, fingers brushing across new muscle wrapped around new bone. Deciding not to panic at that moment, you went about new your new hygiene routine, one that the Mandalorian Paz Vizsla had provided you with after you acclimated to his presence. Under the warm water of the shower, you tried flexing the new muscles on your back, though they were still in early stages. You should have expected this, after all it was only a matter of time. Going so long without proper nutrition and common medical treatment, you supposed they were never going to grow in. Then came Paz Vizsla. Everything happened far to quickly, the thought had escaped your mind entirely.

Your old master had known what you were far before you did. In your early to mid childhood, they were supposed to start appearing, but by then your quality of life was rendered almost non-existent, your body used all the nutrients it could to keep you alive. But now, you were healthy enough, lively and on the mend. Your old master had been keenly aware of the subject and done their best to prepare you should events unfold without them.

“When they start to grow from about this point here...” Your old master pressed a finger in the middle of your shoulder blades. “Once development of the wings starts, you will require double the food and you will most likely feel remarkably boisterous. Oh Force...”

Binding your tent and sleeping bags together, you sighed. “Do I have to?”

Your human master raised an eyebrow. “Have to what? Grow? I would hope that you would want to.”

“But wings sound too...bulky. Plus, it kinda makes me a bigger target. Any trooper could hit me with big ass wings!”

“Y/N!” They chided. “Watch your tongue, that language is not befitting of a young Jedi.”

“Master!”  
  


“What I have said is true...But more importantly, do not let the fear others drive into your heart lead you to condemn your natural self. There is wonder in that, there is hope.”

Slowly, your master rose, starting to forge ahead. You wondered if your teacher often confused hope with the misfortune of forgetting.

***___***___***

Young Y/N emerged from the corridor, looking far more exhausted than Paz last remembered them. They held themselves awkwardly, shoulders squared in an unnatural fashion, lips pulled taught, in an effort to hide some sort of an emotion.

“Are you feeling well, A'dika?” He asked, trying to sound somewhat disinterested.

“Uh, never been better!”

With their armor clutched to their chest, their climbed back into their hammock, carefully resting back. It took the poor child a moment to find a comfortable position, giving Paz reason for concern. He had not noticed any obvious signs of injury, just exhaustion from staying awake. Though it would be easy enough for a little foundling to have a simple fracture or break and dismiss it as a severe bruise.

“Are you sure you are alright?”

The child gave a tense scowl, “Um, I said I'm fine. Don't you have to fly or something I can't really go to sleep if you're just standing there staring at me.”

The Mandalorian raised his hands in defeat. “Alright alright. But remember, you must tell me when you are hurt or else I cannot help. And I don't want to see you hurt.”

They nodded, all defensiveness melting from their features. “Thank you...”

“Good night, A'dika.” Fondly, he patted their head, earning a small smile.

“Good night.”

***___***___***

By morning it was clear the ship had taken off while you were fast asleep. The air in the cargo hold was bordering on frigid, some much so, you wrapped yourself up in yet another blanket. Wiggling around, you could feel the protrusions on your back had grown in the night, increasing the feeling of soreness.

“Great...” You mumbled, sinking deeper into your bedding.

“Hm. You're awake.”

Paz Vizsla sounded tired himself. Had he even bothered going to bed once?

“Yeah. Where are we goin'?” You yawned, sitting upright.

The stoic man cleared his throat, taking a moment to check his datapad. “I have a job to complete. I expect you to stay in the ship, however, while I am out, I want you to think of all the places your old master might be or where they could have gone.”

“Oh.”

Perhaps it would be best not to bother the poor man with the fact your memory was very blank around that exact subject. And perhaps the wings as well.

“And you are to remain in the ship! Have I made myself clear?”

You readily assured him that you would stay on the ship, and that there would not be a repeat of the fiasco the previous day. While he was explaining the basic details of his paid mission, you drifted off, paying mind to your own thoughts that mostly dwelled upon the growing hunger that made your stomach twist. The growth spurt was most likely happening just as your master had foretold, you begged the stars that it would at least make you somewhat taller.

“It's still fairly early so I will leave as soon as we land. And I should return by nightfall. All the food you should need I have put in a small box here.” With one large boot he tapped a small crate just under your bed; it took all of your willpower not to rip open the lid and devour everything in one go.

“What should I do if you're not back?” As strong as you were, the question still made your hair stand on end.

Paz nodded, reaching into a small pouch to reveal a small machine, however as he handed it to you it was clear his size made it appear so.

“If anything happens, even if it seems like you can take it on, you are to com me immediately. I shall do the same.”

Satisfied with his answer, you clipped the comm to your belt as the Mandalorian finished gathering his things, then left.   
  



	12. Indirect Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your wings continue to grow as you wait for Paz to return, there is an uneasy feeling, palpable withing the Force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super stoked for this story! Let me know if you have suggestions or requests which you can leave in the comments or on my tumblr @daviwrites
> 
> Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy!

Your mind told you to get up already and go about your new routine, but your body had another idea, leaving you curled up inside your bed, trying to steel your will. It had been a good while since the Mandalorian Paz Vizsla had left the ship, leaving you by your lonesome. He had left you with a simple mission: to remember where you had last seen your master. If only it was as easy as it sounded! Meditating could provide some leads, but you had already exhausted that option before you met Paz.

Groaning, you slipped out of bed, dragging yourself to the refresher, rubbing your eyes. Slowly, you could feel your energy rising as you brushed your teeth, and did you best to change the bandage over your healing wound. After taking off your clothes, you turned away from the mirror, only to look back over your own shoulder.

“Kriffing hell...”

The lumps on your back had grown significantly overnight, as they were presently taking proper shape as little appendages. Figuring out what muscles to flex was odd, for a few minutes you stood awkwardly until the small, featherless wings moved just slightly. At this rate, they would be developed in no time. Of course, you worried what you were going to tell Paz Vizsla, but the question of your plumage was too great.

Under the warm water of the shower, thoughts of colored feathers flitted through your mind. Any color was fine, you supposed. But what if after they grew in, you hated them? Dye was an option, but then vanity would be on full display should anyone notice. Master had always condemned such transgressions, even if if it was a trivial one. Even when you spent too much time singing the ballads of old, your master would reprimand you for choosing ones that focused on adventure and greatness. Surely he would disapprove of frivolous thoughts such as the color of your plumage. Well, hopefully it was nothing too flashy, or else it would make survival all the more difficult. Master had not told you the story of the _Feathered Boy_ for no reason. Though you were certain he had crafted it only for you, the message still resonated with you.

Once out of the shower, you shook the excess water from your hair, an old habit. Desiring to at least make an effort, you dwelled on past events, whilst scrubbing the dirt from your new clothes. You gripped the hard brush with a subtle fury, pushing your mind back as far as you could, past the flashes of light, past the overwhelming darkness and into your last few moments together. Just the weight of impossible rain, dipping into your eyes, almost completely blinding you. That same water saturated your robes, making swift movement sloppy and sluggish. From somewhere you could hear your Master's bellows, they were desperate but for what you had been unsure. Your feet left deep imprints, the ground lightly threatening to swallow you whole, every so often you found yourself needing to spit out rainwater. The scrubbing became more vigorous.

“MASTER!” You screamed, turning about in circles, until you stepped on something hard.

Reaching down, your gloved hand closed around a thin metal pole, part of the tent you had pitched the previous night.

Someone stepped far too aggressively.

Spinning around, you activated your sabre, quickly dodging a flurry of attacks, keeping your form pristine. If only your opponent had let up just a bit, you would have been able to make some out some identifying feature. The more one knows of their enemy, the easier it the melee shall. But they had known you first. Each of your thrusts were deflected with ease, before long you realized the enemy had you nearly pressed against a tree. There was no way you could develop a new offensive strategy, so burying your pride, you swiftly leapt up, and scrambled up the tree as far as you could, up to the very top where only you could perch and anyone else would surely fall to their death. The trunk while thick and sturdy, its top was thin and trembling. Bringing one arm up to your forehead, it kept a good deal of the incessant rain from obscuring your view. Gazing down below, you could make out a handful of figures, moving about wildly, but with a trained structure. The five had beset your master, closing the space rapidly. You took a few hasty breaths, then leapt down from different branches making your way down, finally landing at your master's side. His presence was immediately calming, his place within the Force was simply tranquil despite your current situation.

“Master!” You gasped, sputtering rain water. “What's the plan?”

The man tensed, instead of answering he called for you to duck before sending one bastard flying up into the air. Then...Then...A sudden throbbing sensation radiating from your head, making everything spin rapidly. Flashes of colored light was all you could focus on as you stumbled over your own legs, slurring your hurried speech. Sharp cries and thundering bellows assaulted your ears, you could feel bodies against your own, hear the shuffling of boots and wet mud on your cheek. And all very suddenly, everything ceased. The world became still, absolutely still.

It had been over an hour and your clothes, after being roughly washed, were now dry. With your tunic fitted properly, you glanced about the storage room of the ship, wondering what to do with the rest of your time. The Mandalorian had apparently taken the data pad with him, as you had searched up and down for it, looking in every conceivable hiding spot. However, you had failed to look into the numerous crates still littered about. You started to move down to open the first holding crate you could get your hands on, only to have your tunic pull uncomfortably taut in the back.

“Kark!” You growled, quickly pulling the item off.

Frustrated, you fished about the ship, finding a rather jagged vibroblade, the actual blade was chipped and its special function was truthfully gone. It would have to do. Judging how large your wings would be was difficult but you managed to make two reasonable slits in the back of your tunic, plenty big so you would get some more use out of the clothing. When you were comfortably back in, the realization struck: now your growing wings were clearly noticeable. Stomping off down the hallway, you made your way back into the small supply room, trying to make sense of the broken parts. There were dust covered spools of wire, sackcloth, ship parts crafted from durasteel, Perhaps a cape would do, it might flare out a fair amount, but it was an easy fix. Though, should a gust of wind or battle come your way, the cape could be easily blown or stripped away.

Grabbing a bag of bolts, you poured them all out, keeping the thick cloth along with some rope and wire. You set the items on the floor of the storage room, your room, and set to work, fiddling around with the pieces, humming contentedly to yourself. Occasionally, you would glance towards the entry way, perked your ears to listen for those heavy footsteps, for Paz Vizsla to return. One half of you could hardly wait to have him back, and the other hoped he would be out long enough for you to cover up.

Concluding the ballad of Nomi Sunrider, you relished the sensation of the last note resonating through your being. Perhaps if your master had instructed you in offensive and defensive arts instead of meditating and being a song smith... You failed to finish the though. Instead another sensation captured your attention, making your growing wings flare out on instinct.

Another presence in the Force was becoming stronger, more prominent to you, but how hadn't you noticed it before. Pointing your nose up, you sniffed the air, gathering a million scents all at once, too many to distinguish for a young one. The presence was certainly not malevolent, more...curious than anything else, like it was seeking something out which was misplaced. Disregarding it, you tried to maintain focus on your handiwork, piercing, weaving, cutting and sealing until you had yourself a rather crude backpack. Slowly, you fit your wings in the hole you had put in the back, then slipping your arms through both straps. A perfect hiding place with room to spare for at least a week. With the bag snugly against your back, you checked your comm for a moment, wishing it would make some noise. When it failed to do so, your face fell.

“Aw, kark...”

Bored and hungry all that was left to so was to eat something and wait. Fishing some dried meat from the parcel Paz had left, you decided to wander about your new home, starting with the cockpit. It was standard, meaning far too many switches, buttons and knobs for you to even begin to make sense of. Chewing on large morsel, you let yourself ease into the pilot's chair, finding it surprisingly comfortable, with a nice view of the port and the planet's people going about their lives. Most of those individuals possessing their own unique spirits, but nothing resounding...

And then you locked eyes. Your own holding a cerulean gaze. This was that presence. Overcome with the need to hide, you fell from the seat, scrambling to the supply closet, locking the door and hastily shoving a few crates in front as a blockade. Hands frisking the pouches on your belt, you realized, you had dropped your comm. That foreign fear illicited a silent plea for help.


	13. Don't Go Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very much concerned, Paz Vizsla makes his way back to the ship to ensure your safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy! <3

Paz's vision blurred when he lost focus for a second. That common criminal had just enough luck to catch him off guard for a moment. It had been an easy enough job, just taking care of wanted felon in the area, sought out by New Republic Officials, of course leave it to governing officials to botch an easy operation. But Paz had been their to take things into his own hands, something the officials could not legally do. They had paid him handsomely, enough for at least a couple weeks of fuel and generous meals. A couple more stops before heading back to Y/N and the ship for goods would be needed, given the child hadn't commed, they could wait just a bit longer.

He was mid stride when a sudden swell nearly had Paz falling to the ground. His surroundings swirled viciously, like an unforeseen torrent. Groaning, all the Mandalorian could do was hold his helmet covered head in both hands, trying to focus on something to ground himself. A fervent cry sent the man reeling, the desperation of the voice making his throat clench. When his vision returned, no one else seemed to be bothered, but how had they missed such a shrill scream?

It was so plainly clear!

_They're getting closer!_

Unable to bear another second, Paz broke into a sprint, his gait quickening despite the weight of his armor. Only a few heads turned at the jarring noise of his movement, the majority of the masses giving way to Paz's massive frame. In only a matter of minutes, the ship was in his sight, though there was a stranger at the front, seemingly trying to look up through the canopy. Clenching his jaw, Paz advanced, squaring his shoulders.

“So this is your ship then?”

The soft quality of the voice nearly caught him off guard.

“I quite like it”

The stranger turned, pulling back the hood of his robe. Locks of warm blonde hair framed gentle features, accentuating the brightness of the man's eyes. There were signs of wear on his tanned skin, worry lines and the like, but if it had not been for those signs, Paz would had easily taken the stranger for a boy.

“It is my ship.” He assured him rather curtly. “May I ask why you have taken such great interest in it? I am not of this planet, but hovering about what is not yours seems like an odd custom.”

“Oh?” The other seemed lost in thought. “I'm sorry, I just thought I saw...someone.” He smiled, “Be safe on your journey. If you don't mind, my sister is waiting for me, so I must go.”

Bewildered by the odd man's behavior, Paz only watched for a few moments as he left. Despite being dressed in a fine fashion, the other gave no indication of a man obsessed with oneself. In fact, Paz felt he was no real threat, but unease was palpable. Before he could turn to enter the ship, the man turned his head slightly, allowing the sun to highlight the beauty of his eyes, those warm rays turning his blonde mane into a halo. That dreamy smile however, vanished, a flat look replacing it.

There was no more time to waste, he could still feel the pang of anxiety piercing his mind; his foundling still had to be accounted for. Hastily, he made his way inside the ship, not taking into account the concerning creak of durasteel that came with the opening.

“Y/N!” Paz called, diminishing his own concern. Their hammock was empty, blankets neatly tucked at one end. On the floor, there was an array of items, all in various degrees of disrepair. From what he could immediately tell someone had been cutting, chewing, and weaving a good deal. The mess tetered out but still left a faint trail that led to the closest corridor, so with a hand on one blaster, Paz silently followed it until he came upon the storage closet. Anyone could have been inside when Paz paused to think about the matter. Someone could have made their way into the ship and stars willing, the young foundling would have escaped in search of his help, but his instincts begged to differ. Instead of taking a stealthier approach, he knocked lightly on the door, thought the weight of his hand made the sound louder than intended.

“Y/N?”

A light shuffling could be heard.

“It's me, A'dika!”

At that sounds, that familiar tone speaking a familiar term, he could hear crated being tossed and shoved aside, a small click followed by the door opening to reveal a rather relieved Y/N. That toothy grin shone as they tackled him in a hug that barely moved the man.

“Stars! I was hoping it was you! If not, kark, I was hoping I wouldn't have to do anything!”

Affectionately, he patted the child's head, still feeling alarmed at the severity of their relief. For a moment he regarded the mess of the storage room and the main hold, but decided there were more pressing matters at hand.

“What scared you so terribly you had to cage yourself in there?” Paz asked as they walked back to the cockpit.

Y/N's shoulders tensed slightly. “There...I saw someone...”

“What? How? Did you let them in?!”

“Of course not!” They protested. “I'm not an idiot!...Most of the time...”

The Mandalorian could have sworn he felt a budding headache. “Okay, well good. But who the hell did you see?”

Reaching his pilot's seat, Paz Vizsla took a seat, the foundling settling into the co-pilot's place. It was odd how they now tended to lean forward a new pack strapped to their back. They shifted uncomfortably in their seat, seeming to never find a comfortable position.

“It was...It was like I knew them or not really actually. I haven't seen their face before but I could feel the presence and it felt familiar! But in a strange way.”

“I did see someone eyeing the ship on my way back. A blond human man kept looking in through the wind shield.” Paz remarked.

“Yes!” Y/N exclaimed. “Blond hair and blue eyes! He wouldn't stop staring and he was so focused like he was looking for something!”

“Oh?”

The child nodded vigorously. “I wasn't using my powers, I promise! But I could feel his feelings in a way. They made feel so scared I ran to hide and dropped my commlink on the way...”

“A'dika, you must keep that on you at all times for times just like this one. It was very fortunate that I felt the need to come back sooner rather than later. That might not always be the case.”

Their ears perked at this. “How did y'know to come back?”

He paused, wondering if the child would laugh at him for thinking of something so preposterous, but reminded of the fact that the young one did possess supernatural abilities once beyond his comprehension.

“I heard your voice.”

“Huh?”

“I _think_ it was your voice.” He added hurriedly. “But it was so loud, I'm surprised no one else could hear it.”

Those curious eyes widened. “I wanted to scream but I didn't want that guy to notice! I just felt really scared, like he was gonna find me or something.”

Paz Vizsla nodded, keeping himself composed. “If you were never afraid, I would seriously think something was wrong. Keep your wits about you, and I'll be there for you as much as I can.”

The foundling smiled, and proceeded to tell him all about what they had figured out so far in regard to their predicament. There was nothing surprising as they could not remember much at all, but that was certainly not what he was paying attention to. It was that shoddily made pack on the child's back which would on occasion, move slightly, like something in there was alive. If it were not for the protection of his mask, the young one would definitely tell where he was looking. The truly peculiar thing was whatever was inside that pack seemed to move with them.


	14. The Merchant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thinking on your past proves to be more difficult than anticipated. On the search for star ship parts, Paz Vizsla encounters someone strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long! I had writers block, finals, and there were four hate crimes at my school so I was organizing with friends. Now that break is here I should be updating with more frequency.

“Finish your greens, A'dika.” Paz requested, coming back from the refresher.

For a moment you clenched your jaw, looking down at the vegetables in your bowl that you had purposefully pushed to the side and avoided eating. It was not that you were purposefully being difficult, it was that more of such food tasted absolutely horrid, despite what your caretaker said. He insisted he had made it so they would have similar taste to the meat, but as soon as a mere bit entered your mouth, it was like Nexu bile.

“Buir!” You cried half-heartedly. “I don't want to!”

“And why not?” He asked, sitting back down in the pilot's seat. “They will help you grow soundly in mind, body and spirit.”

“I don't want to so I'm not going to.”

The Mandalorian shrugged, not bothering to look at you. “Fine then, nothing sweet after. Wash up before you go to bed. We will start flying to our next destination.”

You stood to leave. “But I never remembered anything...Anything useful.”

“Hm. I know but this ship still needs heavy work and I know a place where I can have it patched up without selling an organ.”

You tensed.

After doing away with your leftovers, you retreated to the fresher, making sure to securely lock the door behind you. First, you discarded your handmade bag finding that your wings had grown significantly. Reasonably, they should not have been able to fit inside the mere bag, but from your vantage point looking into the mirror, it seemed that the appendages would impossibly fold in on themselves. And to your shock, they had started feathering. Alone, each one was so delicate in design, almost like a thin sliver of obsidian, and when you turned the sheen certainly beautiful. Sighing, you flexed the new muscle before going about your adopted routine, feeling dazed with despair.

***___***___***

Your sharp teeth dug into the freshly grilled meat, singing in and tearing away with ease. Jerba or meat in general was a rare treat, and the mere aroma was enough to make you light headed. Your master had told you that they would seize any opportunity to include it into your diet as it was necessary for your species; they seemed to know more than enough about you.

“Have you been feeling any different?” Your master had asked casually.

You shrugged, wistfully gnawing on the leftover bone. “Not really. I really should have worn something warmer when we went to Hoth, but my leg feels normal now.”

“Hm, I wonder if that will stall the process...”

The Jedi Master trailed off mumbling to themself as if you were suddenly not present.

“Master. Master!” You called, from where you laid on the ground.

“Perhaps a few more weeks, but then...Oh? Sorry, little Y/N. I was just thinking. Here give me your arm.”

“Aw, c'mon do we have to do this every night? Can't I just miss it for once!”

Your elder shook their head, gently taking your arm in hand, taking a small device from the folds of their dark robe. They had taken to checking your blood since you had started your adolescence, making sure your health was in pristine condition, on the chance it was anything less, they insisted on plenty of bed rest and mind healing.

When their little device beeped, you could see their eyes scrutinizing the results, glancing down at your arm you could see the dark spot where the needle was used to entering. Though the little pricks were no longer painful, a few tears still ran down your face.

“All signs are good. You should be progressing.”

“Progressing with what?” You asked coldly.

Your Master shook their head, tying up their pale hair. “And you've forgotten once again. Your wings, Y/N. Your wings. By this age, you should have started showing plumage...”

“Who cares?”

With the loose sleeve of your tunic, you wiped your face clean, not noticing your Master's concerned stare. It was a dreadful habit, one that put you on edge knowing that those scrutinizing eyes were watching so carefully, seeing past your finite body and directly into the essence of the Force.

“I do.” They put the device away.“And you should too. You need to know why I'm so worried about your wings!”

“I'm  _ dying _ to know, Master.”

At this point, your sarcasm ricocheted off the Master Jedi.

Their body stiffened and then relaxed, not even the most patient of Jedi could remain perfectly at ease when raising such a spirited young padawan.

“Tell me, how many like you have you seen on our journey?”

“None.”

They nodded in agreement. “And in all of your studies, how many times have you heard of people like you?”

“Not...Not once.”

“Then come here and let me show you something.”

Sitting up you moved and crouched next to the other Jedi, still feeling their quiet, overwhelming desperation.

“Here.” Those strong hands pulled a small tome from one of the many packs the both of you carried.

“I haven't seen this book before.”

“Because I've never found the right time to tell you all this.”

Such words were not comforting in the least.

“This is a very, very old text, an ancient documentation of species from across the galaxy, compiled by early Jedi.” Your master flipped through a few pages, until one was reached. “Now doesn't that look familiar?”

It was not an exact interpretation, but all the right features were there: the sharp teeth, facial markings, vertical pupils, longer ears that came to a soft point...it was all there, including the wings you master was far too keen on.

“These people, your people have been gone for many years, young one”

Your eyes followed their finger to the block of text you could not bring yourself to read.

“The plumage of the Shielae people are prized in nearly every culture known for their medicinal and restorative properties...Though, the aesthetic quality is favored as well.”

“Stop reading.”

“Y/N, it is-”

“STOP!” You cried, crawling away. “I asked nicely, didn't I?”

“Yes. Yes you did...”

Nothing more was said that evening. You simply retreated back to your sleeping place in the cramped tent, curling in on yourself, unable to get the image of the mount out of your mind.

***___***___***

Even in sleep, the young one had worn their hand made bag to bed, keeping it just pressed against one side of the hammock so it could not be loosened for inspection. While he should not have made such a deal out of it to himself, Paz could not help but wonder what was inside that could warrant such close protection. There was little else to do on the ship until the morning when the merchant would arrive with the parts he needed, he had already spent a good handful of hours exercising, and when the child had fallen asleep Paz had been free to take off his helmet to eat. 

In his own quarters, he wondered if he should even bother putting his helmet back on, when going to peek in on the kid. Surely they would not wake, though on the off chance they did, his commitment to the Way would be shattered. Giving a heavy sigh, he slipped the beskar on his head, doing his best to tread lightly into the storage hangar and just as he suspected, (Y/N) was still curled up under blankets, clearly very much asleep. With a grunt, their body shifted so that their pack was exposed, but there was still the issue of how it was sealed. 

Kark!

He was a grown man. Why the hell did he care so much about what a young child was keeping in their bag? The young ones from the guild often made trinkets and crafts that were greatly dear to them, though there was nothing to be concerned of. Still, something irked Paz Vizsla on, some sort of instinct telling him to worry and to act on those feelings. In spite of the unknown urgency, he stopped himself, opting to wait until there was a moment when he could earnestly approach the child. After all, he very much needed some rest. 

When morning came, the Mandalorian found his foundling had cleaned up their mess from the day prior and neatly folded each blanket, nestling them at the end of their hammock. And right out of the fresher came (Y/N), looking rather frazzled. 

“Krif!” They yelped, nearly walking right into him. “Maker’s sake! How the hell do you move so quietly?”

Under his helmet, Paz smiled. “Practice. Now if you’d grant me patience, I’ll have something ready for you to eat in a short while.”

Their eyes lit up, the bag moving just slightly. Odd, but the questions could wait. (Y/N) waited without complaint, playing some sort of game with old tools. Perhaps getting a hold of something safer was in order, after all Paz could not do with having the child accidentally prying off a finger. He placed the finishing touches on the child’s breakfast, knowing this time, that they would have to eat at least some of their vegetables. 

“There is a merchant coming over soon with some parts that we need, I should have enough credits, so we won’t have to sell off anything on board.” Truthfully, there was not much to sell. “You are to stay in the ship, alright?”

(Y/N) quickly grabbed the bowl, completely forgetting the utensil. “Yeah, sure!” They paused “How...How far are you going?”

“Worry not. They are coming to us, but just outside.” Paz Vizsla’s holo communicator buzzed. “And it looks like they’re here. It should only be a few minutes, but be good.”

Satisfied with their intentions, Paz left the ship, leaving (Y/N) to devour everything he had made for them.

***___***___***

You had eaten far too fast, but it had been an absolutely delicious breakfast, so the blame could not have been entirely yours. Laying on the durasteel floor, you listened for the Mandalorian, strangely having to actually strain your ears to listen. Given your ears were larger than a human’s hearing Paz Vizsla’s bellowing tone should have been easy. But there were two low whispers, hissing almost, that were outside the bay doors. Since no one was yelling, that must have been a good sign. No one was fighting…

Sluggishly, you rose to your feet, flexing your shoulders uncomfortably. Overnight, those cursed wings had grown, surely by tomorrow the plumage would start to show. The pack was not going to be nearly big enough. That matter would have to wait, eavesdropping was of the utmost importance at the moment. Slinking over to the door, you pressed your ear to the cold durasteel. 

“ **_You_ ** are not who I was supposed to meet, I don’t care what your prices are!” The Mandalorian seethed. 

“I am telling you the truth. I work for the man and he instructed me to come in his stead.” Another voice. Lighter in quality, feminine, and there was an absolutely firm air to it. 

“The merchant told me no such thing, the deal is off. Now  **_leave_ ** .”

Heavy steps traveled up the ramp, only to stop. 

“Please!” the stranger pleaded. “I...I could truly use the money. 

Paz Vizsla was close, and hurriedly, you retreated to the storage room, climbing back into your hammock. The creak of the door rang in your ears as did the two sets of footsteps. 

“You can just leave the parts here, let me go grab your payment...There is no need to follow-”

“I want to make sure you don’t have any kriffing tricks up your sleeves, Mandalorian.”

You felt the smart decision was to hide under all the blankets and wait until the seller had let them be, but curiosity kept you where you were. Paz Vizsla’s disappointment was evident as his shoulders slumped upon seeing you were in fact visible. From behind his enormous frame came a woman who immediately locked eyes with you, refusing to look away. Those brown eyes took in every part of you in the few stolen seconds, scrutinizing each bit thoroughly. 

“You have a child.”

Wishing the woman would just vanish, you tucked yourself in your hammock. 

Paz Vizsla insisted that they both move along and so he could simply pay here and then she could leave, however, this woman seemed oddly intent on you. 

“Mandalorian, would you mind if I said hello to your young one?”


	15. Aerial Ace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz's suspicions begin to take root as he probes further into your past. Hopefully, there is help to be found at the next destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdfghjkl;' nowww I think I know what I'm doing with this but not really lmao. But fair warning idk how the hell starship controls work. The comments I have recieved have given me so much motivation and joy! Many thanks <3

The woman did not wait for Paz Vizsla’s permission and approached his child rather quickly. On one hand there was a swelling pride knowing that someone seemed to care greatly for one of his small clan, but she had clearly, unknown intentions and the young one seemed rather irked by the merchant’s acquaintance. They quite literally hid from them, burrowing under their blankets. The Mandalorian could almost feel their growing anxiety. 

“Hey, Kid. There’s no need to be scared.” With one hand, the woman peeled back a blanket. “I just wanna say- **_KARK!_ ** ”

Stumbling backwards, she just barely kept herself upright and looking down at the offending hand, it was clearly bleeding. Poking their head up from the hammock, (Y/N) looked properly disgusted, their mouth twisted with displeasure. 

“Ugh!” After a few deep breaths they retched. “That tasted  _ awful! _ ”

Still holding her hand, the woman gave a forced smile. “Cute kid, Mandalorian.”

After fully registering what had happened, Paz could see the woman was not too terribly hurt, and his foundling seemed fine, just put off. Begrudgingly, he apologized and urged (Y/N) to do the same. While the woman’s insistence was not appropriate, neither was biting her hand severely enough to draw blood. 

“A’dika, please. Give your apology.”

“But she-!”

“(Y/N), I’ll not tell you again.”

The child huffed expressing their sarcastic remorse, and Paz realized w=this was the best that he would get from them given the circumstances. 

“I am sorry I startled you, little one.” The woman admitted. 

(Y/N)’s ears drooped. 

“Just...forgive me for saying so, but I haven’t seen any like you before and I have, well, been around the galaxy a fair bit. But, I’m afraid I’ve come not to chat, but on business.” 

Following Paz’s quiet lead she trailed behind him as he walked to the cockpit to gather the credits needed. From the corner of his eye, he could catch her stealing glances back at the foundling who eventually jumped from their spot and into the refresher. As previously determined, he handed the woman a bag of credits, her grip was strong and very determined. Oddly, she seemed uninterested in the money, more distracted as if her mind was elsewhere, somewhere far away. 

“Ah,” she smiled, “thank you very much for your business. If you would like I could-”

“No.” Paz squared his shoulders. “Give my thanks and appreciation to your employer. You have already done more than enough for us.”

The woman nodded, fixing a few brown hairs that had gone astray. “If you should need anything else, do not hesitate to reach out. I do believe that you have our contact information?”

“Hm. That I do. If you do not mind, I must start work straight away.” 

Paz gestured to the back corridor and deliberately led the human woman from his ship, not giving her another opportunity to speak or look back into the ship. She was nothing to be actively fearful of, the Mandalorian could tell she would do no harm, at least with malicious intentions. But the way her eyes took in the child made him defensive. He wished that the foundling would have just hidden away to begin with. To ensure that the woman went on her way, Paz Vizsla watched her disappear into the crowds milling about, but before turning back into the ship, he could have sworn seeing the blonde man from the day prior. 

***___***___***

After the second time, you had rushed to the fresher, the door could not shut and lock quick enough. Those brown eyes were calculating...judging...yet not threatening. Still, the young woman’s strange nature had been enough to frighten you into hiding. Her presence lingered, even as you could tell she was long gone. Perhaps she had been connected like you and your master were. Though they had spoken of Jedi being near extinct, not many were left alive after the fall of the Republic. So if the woman had been anything like you, then she must have been unaware or willfully ignorant. But then why had her simply being in your vicinity caused such anxiety? Feeling so completely overwhelmed, you let your eyes close, finding sleep would be the best remedy. 

Rubbing the sides of your temples, you laid on your stomach your nerves having finally settled. The whirring sounds of mechanics must have been the Mandalorian working on the repairs much needed, the seller must have sold this at a discount for such reasons. As your guardian was occupied and giving you space, you decided to check up on the growth of your...current problem, their hiding place was becoming quite restrictive. Undoing the ties, you let the bag fall to the ground and for a moment all you could do was stare at yourself in front of the mirror, taking in the sight behind you. There they were. A part of your own body, very much there and real. No longer a fleshy, loathsome sight, though still very much small, your wings were a third of their full maturation. Covering the skin and bones were now captivating feathers, quite dark, nearly obsidian, but iridescent if you turned your body a certain way. Though new they already seemed quite resilient in nature, the primaries, secondaries and coverts, not one was less lustrous than the others. Bending your arm awkwardly you reached around to gently brush a few fingers against the plumage, gliding the skin against one that jutted out. Surprisingly, the edge of the feather just barely cut your finger, drawing a thin line of blood. Deciding the edges were best avoided, you tapped the center of one, fascinated at the solid consistency. 

The oily sheen that coated your wings felt rather uncomfortable, so you took the liberty of running a quick shower. After drying off the familiar parts of your body, there was the matter of the wings. Those muscles were still in their infancy and had not been used due your keeping them a secret from the galaxy. Flexing the sinewy flesh, water flitted off and with each fluttering, the sensation became that more comfortable. Satisfied with the drying, you picked the backpack from the floor, at once realizing the task before you. 

“(Y/N)?” There was a slow tapping on the door. “A’dika, are you alright?”

Silently cursing, you nearly fell over, slippin on the damp floor. “Yeah! I’m good! Just took a nap and then an, uh, shower.”   
  


“Hm… Alright. Well, if I could get some help when you’re finished, after I’ll get your evening meal ready.”

“O-Okay!”

You waited until his footstep faded off before letting yourself take a deep breath. Force, thank the stars, he had not waited for you to come out. Fueled by the anxiety that your secret would be uncovered, you tensed the weak muscles of your wings, bringing them close in together while keeping your arms flexible. Stretching the bag open as far as possible, you barely managed to cover them completely, though the pressure forcing the limbs together was extremely uncomfortable, bordering on painful. Even so, you put on a placid face and left the refresher, following the mechanical noises until you could see Paz in the engine room, fumbling around with a variety of tools. 

“Ah, there you are. Hand me the hyper screwdriver if you will.”

You knelt on the ground, looking over a number of devices, none of which you actually knew the names of, but each had names you had bestowed upon them when playing Jedi versus Stormtroopers. From where he was hunched over, Paz looked at you, probably expectantly. At a loss, you pointed to one tool only to have him shake his head. Again and again the process was repeated, your guardian naming each one as you went until you finally had the damned hyper screwdriver in hand, tossing it to the Mandalorian who sighed. 

“Have you ever done work on a ship before?”

“Not really?” Shrugging you could feel your stomach clench. “I’m a kid and I’ve also never owned a ship before in my life.”

“And what of your master?” Paz countered. 

“They didn’t own one. We just caught rides as they came, y’know?”

It was true, money was never plentiful, and your teacher was not fond of New Republic transportation, so they went out of their way to find only the most leery individuals that were doing their best to avoid the Republic and any ex-Imperials. Those ships had been run by those who were simply satisfied that the starships were running effectively. So there was no mechanical expertise learned on your travels. Yawning, you felt the need to preen, your wings feeling irritated in their confinement. Paz Vizsla seemed to notice this irritability, and immediately you stopped moving. 

“Are you feeling alright?”

“What?” Laughing, you tried not to look into his visor. “I’m just hungry.”

He set his tool down, considering you for a moment before putting his things away and moving out of the engine room. Tentatively you followed, sensing that Paz’s apprehension was growing steadily, you knew it was only a matter of time until he would have to pry. Even though you had napped earlier, your body was asking for respite as well as a substantial meal, the delayed but rapid growth was taking its toll. While the Mandalorian went about preparing the foodstuffs, you stayed in the hangar, nearly nodding off without anything to do. It was a shame really, in your life with your teacher and now this life with the Mandalorian, there was a looming sense of uselessness. Of being so utterly disinterested with nothing to do. Perhaps with this Mandalorian the adventures were to come, but with your teacher, anything remotely exciting had been scarce. There was always the crucial necessity of being safe, of being alive, and your master’s anxiety surrounding survival had started to seep into your own mind, keeping you from the world outside each hiding spot the both of you made a temporary home of. Some of that fear still lingered even now, but there was an actual reason to stay hidden, to have parts of you stay hidden. And often when one is hidden, there is not much to keep oneself occupied. It was not as if you had any belongings anymore. Everything was gone the moment your eyes closed on whatever planet you had lost your master on. 

“(Y/N). (Y/N?”

Groggy from being lost in thought, you lifted your head, “Huh?”

  
  


“Here. I secured more rations, but please try to eat more than the meat.”

  
  


Reaching up, you took the tray from Paz Vizsla’s large hands, smiling in thanks for his kindness and efforts. And despite the greens tasting like poison, you made yourself devour them completely. When everything was finished, you made sure to sip the juiced in the bottom of the tray that remained; nothing was to go to waste. Feeling only half full, you tried to find satisfaction in what had been given, but to even dream of more...no. 

“Are you feeling alright, young one?” 

  
  


“Just tired.” Not a lie, but only a fraction of the truth. 

Paz Vizsla slowly joined you on the floor crossing his legs like you had. “I can only help if you tell me what the matter is, A’dika.”

“I never said I needed help.”

“You seem more than tired.” The modulated voice cracked for a moment, though not out of emotion. 

“It’s nothing, I just need sleep.”

Once you had cleaned up from dinner, he let you rest. Neither of you mentioned the strange woman who brought the parts for the ship. She was to remain unspoken of, for some time. The Mandalorian informed you that he would be taking off to a place his friend the Armorer knew where the both of you could find some help that could potentially aid your memory. Despite feeling the constriction at your back, you were able to drift off, the monotonous sound of the ship lulled you to sleep. There were no real dreams, at least ones that you were accustomed to, just a cacophony of colors surrounding your consciousness, enveloping you in a soft chill. It only seemed like a matter of minutes that you had entered the welcoming realm of unconsciousness when something started to startle your subconscious. It was this muted screech in the back of your mind that slowly started to grow louder, then all at once the full power of an alarm assaulting your sensitive ears. Disoriented and confused you pushed yourself up seeing the world inside of the ship was now bathed in a red light, if that was not distressing enough, the ship would lurch every moment now and then. 

In a hurry you fell out of the hammock, your knees properly smacking against the floor. Part of you wanted to take the time to don your armor, but when the ship jerked yet again, you decided against it. Fumbling towards where you had seen Paz Vizsla last, feeling a brief surge of relief at the sight of him in the pilot’s seat, one hand gripped the controls while the other furiously worked a board of buttons and switches. You wanted to call out but words failed, unable to unclench your throat, you rushed to his side. 

“DAMN! Kark, (Y/N), get back into the hangar, find someplace safe to hide!” Paz demanded. 

Looking over at the ship’s radar system you could see a few other ships were hot on your tail, and when the Mandalorian steered the ship suddenly, you could see that the star ship was under unfriendly fire. It was a miracle you had not been sent flying back into the small corridor, and despite Paz Vizsla’s protests, you climbed into the co-pilot’s seat and tightly strapped yourself in. 

“Wh-Who’s trying to kill us?!” You finally managed, as the craft lurched forward again. 

The Mandalorian gave what could have either been a misplaced chuckle or perhaps a cough. Often you found yourself wishing he would just take the damn helmet off; without the vocader he would actually sound human. 

“New Republic fighters. They’re after the ship, looks like we bought stolen goods, young one.” From further within the craft the pair of you could hear something crackle and then pop violently. “And...And you swear you’ve never done anything technical?!”

“If I  **_did_ ** , I’d be helping, yeah?!”

“Here. Take my seat.” He ordered. 

Dizzy from the gravity of the present moment you just stared until the Mandalorian took the initiative to unbuckle you from your seat and then placed you where he had once been, moving the seat closer to the controls. 

“I don’t know how to fly a kriffing ship!” You cried, not sure where to put your hands, though judging by the radar, you had only a few moments to make a decision. 

“Don’t worry, A’dika,” he reassured you with a heavy pat on the back, “it’s just like playing a holo game!”

He gave you no time to argue or protest, darting somewhere within to fix what had potentially ruptured. Quietly, you murmured consolations to yourself, reaching forward to grab the control column, deciding to keep an eye on the screen showing you where the enemies were. When everything rocked to the side, you figured you were certainly not moving swiftly enough. What would your master do? Kark, you master would have avoided this whole debacle in the first place. Hell, the Jedi would certainly have reprimanded you for going off in search of him, the danger far eclipsing the mystery of what had befallen them. But here now, there was no safe choice, and there was another life that had been thrust into your young hands. Even now as your heart pounded, you could feel no semblance of your teacher. 

Letting out a rather long string of curses, you abruptly steered the ship from another volley of fire. Sweat beaded and poured down your face, yet there was no time to wipe it away. Your attention was divided amongst the control display, radar and the kriffing space in front. With each second that focus sharpened, and Paz had a point, the main controls for the most part were just like the holo games that you had started to play on his data pad, except there was the very real possibility of dying. A blinking light from the communications panel prompted you to press the button just below without thinking. 

“Blue eleven to... _ Royal Ark _ , do you copy? You are ordered to stand down! I repeat! Stand down!”

“Ohhhh kark! Paz!?” 

He must have still been working desperately on the repairs, too occupied to hear your plea. The fire ceased giving you a bit of respite. 

“ _ Royal Ark, _ identify yourself!”

If it were not for the labels, surely you would have incidentally blown both you and paz into oblivion. And given your master had instructed you somewhat on Galactic Basic, you found the transmission switch. 

“Um, Royal Ark to Blue...Blue eleven?” 

There was a long pause and even though the New Republic fighters were now only tailing the craft you still had a vice like grip on the control column.

“Are...Are you a child?” The static voice came over incredulously. 

Flexing the muscles in your throat you flicked the switch, “No, of course not!” 

Glancing down there was a very large lever that you had noticed upon your first time on the ship, its mere size enticing you to move it immediately. Occasionally, you had observed many a pilot manning their transports, and from that you absolutely knew there was a host of buttons to press before pulling on the massive lever, though now with the ship currently damaged, the ruling government breathing down your neck and the overabundance of anxiety fueling your every move, it seemed like a viable option. Tipping the controls forward, you tried to force the ship to go faster. 

“ _ Royal Ark _ ! You have been ordered to cease and be escorted to the nearest New Republic base! Identify yourself! Stop!”

Through the communicator you could hear the Republic leader’s comrades growing increasingly agitated. Becoming more irked, you pushed forward, and from far behind you could hear the Mandalorian stumbling about, shouting in a language you could not interpret. All autonomy you possessed seemed to slip away, while a desperate need to escape took hold. All together the grating sounds of the damned alarm, the Republic bastards shouting orders, the rattling of durasteel and the new barrage of fire came together in a most unholy matrimony tearing an unbridled scream from your lungs. And all at once there was a piercing energy that coursed through your body as you forced the large lever forward, forcing your body to shake and then go rigid for what felt like eternity. But nothing ever remains the same as when that moment of shock ended your body jerked forward and your head properly smacked against the console sending you into violent but welcome unconsciousness. 


	16. The Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz Vizsla rushes to Telos IV to find you medical help after a rough escape from New Republic officials!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdfgfghjkl;' i'm having fun writing this lmao pls let me know what you think if you can <3 muchas gracias <3

Paz thanked the stars he managed to hastily repair the shields which had malfunctioned when they had needed them most. Given his large hands were not optimal for the intricate process, the work was not shoddy by any means. When that had been finished, something else had broken, that being the oxygen supply, seeing as the child had their hands full, he found it best to simply fix it and not tell them, lest they break into a panic. The ancestors must have blessed him greatly, because had he just been a moment slower, the powerful jolt that sent him flying would have perhaps prevented any dire repairs and depleted the whole ship of oxygen. Relieved for having survived, he picked himself up from the floor and entered the cockpit, prepared to wonder what in Maker’s name had happened. There was an uncomfortable constriction in his chest as each limb started to feel oddly numb and for a moment the Mandalorian forgot how to stand properly, almost falling to his knees. He rationalized first, sure that the youth had decided to take a nap at an inappropriate time; their sanctuary did seem to be in the realm of sleep. 

There was no clear movement and the longer he stared, the more he noticed, specifically the blood that had splattered all over the main console. At once Paz rushed forward, but faltered noticing the barely noticeable smoke wafting away from the controls. The child was positioned face first into the console, but flipping them over might cause more damage if not damage to himself as well. 

“(Y/N)?” He kept his voice as gentle as possible. “(Y/N), please…”

Paz Vizsla hoped for something, anything. Frustrated, he shed one glove, carefully putting his hand right underneath the young one’s nose, and he could feel the invisible heat of their breath. Unwilling to let this change slip, he slipped the glove on again and gently tapped their shoulder, seeing there was no electric current still coursing through their body. Nothing major appeared to be broken, save their nose which had been clearly smashed, so he took their frame into his arms. Positioning them proved difficult and Vizsla accidentally jostled the pack they were wearing. The child let out a dry groan, their brows furrowed in pain. 

“Kark…”

After whispering a few apologies, the Mandalorian carried them to his own quarters, setting them facedown on the bed. Taking his vibro blade from his belt, he begrudgingly sliced through the pack material with ease. Reduced to strips, he pulled the fabric away, coming to a halt once again. They were very much frazzled, feathers in disarray but the bones were in place. His hand immediately went to touch what the child had been hiding, but before he could even move his arm, the foundling shifted in their unconsciousness. There was no time to ponder about the dark wings protruding from the child’s back, he needed to seek out a medic as soon as possible and heading to the intended destination was his best shot. After gingerly draping a blanket over them, Paz made sure to strap them in before heading back to the cockpit. 

***___***___***

Opening your eyes, you could feel the crust of your tears give way. You did not dare move. In the time you spent on your own, you found it best to remain still after being knocked unconscious, to move too quickly so suddenly could potentially worsen any injuries. Though this time, you were sure of the physical trauma endured, hell, the last thing you could remember was the searing agony before your face smacked the console. Without even flexing a muscle, you could feel the irritable sensation of pins and needles spreading across your skin, and against your will, muscles started to spasm on their own. Though each time they did so, there was no unbearable agony, not the kind that left you hopeless. 

Deciding it was safe enough to move, you forced your arms to push you up from the stiff bed until you were able to shakily lean against the durasteel wall. Finding it too strenuous to go any further, all you could focus on was breathing and sorting through a host of thoughts. How the hell had you gone from the pilot’s seat to a bed? Where was the Mandalorian Paz Vizsla? What of the insidious New Republic officers? Perhaps it would be safest to lock the door to the room and wait until help arrived, but what if Paz was in need of your help? Trying to build the will to walk over to the door, your body feeling exhaustion of nearly being electrocuted to death pulled you back down into a deep sleep. 

“Did you bring your weapon, young (Y/N)?”

“Yes, Master.”

They sighed, though kept walking. “You know very well how I feel about you bringing that out of your bag.”

Determined to not be drowned out once again, you kept your voice clear. “I think it would suit me better if I used my own. I know you worry, but-”

Your teacher turned on the heel of their weathered boot, kneeling down and grabbing your shoulder, the sensation nearly throwing you into a panic. Despite wanting to look away, all you could do was remain still in their grip and focus on muting the bond between the two of you. 

“You would do well to heed the word of your master, little one.” The heat of their breath made you sick. With a firm hand, they released one shoulder, roughly pulling your lightsaber from your belt. “I would feel better if you would use mine.”

As they let you go, their expectations were clear. 

“Yes, Master...I’m sorry, Master.”

Rattled from their steely grasp and furious insistence, you simply trailed behind them, deciding to keep your eyes on the ground as your boots filled in the prints of your Jedi teacher. Kashyyyk in all of its lush greenery should have provided a sense of relief, with no real Imperial threat and the mountainous forests providing plenty of cover, there should have been little to fret over. Yet, anxiety radiated off of your Master, the feeling only serving to leave you on edge. On almost any other trek, even ones that were moderately risky, they would offer up some lessons to keep your mind occupied and continuing to grow. There was none of that now, your Master’s lips were taut, the muscle of their jaw pulsing. With nothing to really do and your body too tense for meditation, thoughts of food began to freely flow through your mind. Saliva started pooling in your mouth, the clenching of your stomach only making it worse. Your teacher had insisted funds were low, therefore reducing meals to two ration bars a day. It felt cruel, unfair, yet this was what surviving required: suffering and following the lead of the experienced. 

“Master,” you dared to raise your voice. “I’m tired.”

“It’s not much longer,” they replied, their voice suddenly becoming faintly sweet, “You’re doing well. We are going to rest soon, just keep walking, alright?”

“Yes, Master.”

Being the dutiful young padawan you were, you followed their lead deeper into the woods, letting the light breeze caress your face, within the small gusts you could just barely feel the sensation of a raindrop hitting the tip of your nose. Gradually the few drops increased until a heavy downpour, with a shiver, you pulled the hood of your cloak over your head. The silence remained. 

***___***___***

“May I help you in some-”

“I need a medic! Immediately!”

Nearly out of breath, Paz could hardly believe there would be anyone present in the absolutely devastated ruins of Anglebay Station. But indeed there were small pockets of people who had taken residence in what the razing had left behind, and at the center of those residences was the largest structure, stitched together to form a most desperate ward. No one dared to step in the Mandalorian’s way, the townspeople scattering before he could get close, save the young girl who came rushing from the makeshift medical center. Truthfully he felt guilty for being the cause of the young girl’s fright, but the circumstances were dire and he despised being alone from the child while they were in such a state, not to mention the secret they chose to withhold up until a while ago. 

“I-I do apologize, but my mentor is resting, so you will have to bear with me.”

“But you still possess the abilities of a healer?” Paz asked, maintaining his unrelenting pace. 

“Yes, sir.”

The medic questioned the condition of the patient-to-be, to which Paz Vizsla could only offer minimal information. Entering the ship, there was an agonizing silence as Paz opened the door to his own quarters. He was not entirely surprised, but ever thankful that the foundling had moved and was still breathing, albeit unevenly. The attendant froze in the doorway for a moment, seemingly shocked at the state of the child. 

“I-I will do what I can.” The girl said quietly, loosening a pack that had been secured to her belt. “But I think I should call my teacher to-to make sure nothing else is wrong.”

Setting to work, he could just watch from a few feet away as the nurse positioned (Y/N)’s body at an odd angle to keep pressure off of their wings while still allowing access to their very much broken nose. Her hands gently realigned what had been smashed, placed bandages, heavily soaked in bacta, then secured gauze to keep it in place. She did occasionally look back at him from the corner of her eye while treating the burns littered on their arms. After taking a few scans, the girl stood. 

“The ribs are slightly fractured, so they will have to be careful. But to make sure they are...set on the right track, I would like to have my mentor come take a look if you don’t mind.”

He sighed, just wanting to definitively know the young one was alright, there was still the lead from the Armorer he had to follow up with on the other side of Telos IV, the sooner this teacher could arrive, the better. The Mandalorian approved, and the girl took off far more hastily than she had come. Once alone, He knelt down next to (Y/N) who was now laid on their stomach (the lesser of two evils) and head turned to the side. All he could bring himself to do was whisper assurances and praise for outrunning the New Republic officers. Paz could have sworn the edges of their mouth perk up into a pained smile. It was already plenty easy to talk to the foundling, though now with their silence (thus lack of any undesired remarks), any leftover reservations had vanished and he found himself talking about anything and everything that came into his mind. Though they were already quite injured it was a relief to know that they were there with him than anywhere else in the galaxy. When a soft silence eventually fell, Paz Vizsla could not help but stare at the onyx feathers that sprouted from their back. They had very carefully cut the fabric of their tunic to make room for said wings, even going so far as to make sure the edges were sewn so no fringes or loose threads remained. 

Though they had not known each other for a terribly long time, Paz believed that there was no malice between him and the child. Of course mistrust was to be expected, but to hide something so strange? Thinking about it now, Paz had not noticed then having kriffing wings when they had first met, so this had clearly been a development in their time together. When they woke he wondered how angry they would be now that he had discovered them. The texture of the feathers appeared rather strange, perhaps light but the sheen implied otherwise. Had he been a reckless youth without any restraint he would have given in to the desire to feel the texture of the wings, but best to ask permission when they woke. When the Mandalorian started to hear an alarming rattle in the child’s breathing, he had little time to worry as there was a frantic rapping at the ship’s entrance. After promising to be back in a few moments, Paz made his way to the entrance, ready for the worst, though hoping for the promised help. 

“A Mandalorian. A rare sight around these parts.”

“Are you-”

“Yes, I am the girl’s teacher, Gaius.” The Barabel replied quickly. “Where is the patient?”

Something about the nurse’s teacher made Paz Vizsla’s muscles tense, there was an urgent curiosity in the reptilian’s eyes, but he would be by the young one’s side to make sure nothing else happened to them. Reluctantly, he led the medic to his quarters where the child lay, still in a painful slumber. After crossing the threshold, eyes falling upon the foundling, the Barabel’s eyes grew wide. 

After cursing in his own language he rushed over far too quickly for the Mandalorian’s liking, claws observing the work of his pupil. The work was rushed, and what had been a straight laced expression the Barabel morphed into a toothy smirk. Upon finishing, he paused. 

“Well?” Paz growled. “Are they going to be alright?”

“Do you have any idea of what you have here?” Gaius stood as Paz placed a hand on one of his blasters. “Do you know what this is?”

“Excuse me? What you are  _ referring _ to is  **_my_ ** child. You would do well to refer to them as such.”

“Well, excuse my rude nature, but it is hard to compose myself when looking at what should be an extinct species.”

Gaius chuckled at Paz’s confused silence, glancing back at (Y/N) whose rattled breathing was becoming even more irritated. Though before he could get a threat to cross his lips, Paz could only watch as the damned Barabel took his enormous, scaly, clawed hands and lifted the child up into the air from under their arms, poor (Y/N) unconsciously giving a pained groan. Drawing a blaster, Paz aimed it at the reptile, though he could just use the child as a shield, leaving the Mandalorian at Gaius’ mercy. 

“Put. Them. Down.”

“But aren’t you curious?” His grip tightened. “What you have here is a being thought to have died over a millenia ago! Just one of these feathers could buy a whole starship!” 

He could feel whis whole body vibrating with a mixture of rage and absolute panic. The Barabel was moving in such a frenzy, a shot would likely hit (Y/N), perhaps killing them in the process. Though it was not truthfully his style, Paz sheathed his blaster and dashed forward, kicking at the Barabel’s legs. Gaius let out a sharp hiss, letting go of (Y/N). The Mandalorian seized the foundling, pulling them to his chest with one arm and turning to point his flamethrower at the bastardous lizard. Sure it might not scorch the scales, but the eyes were much more vulnerable. Both men stood still, while he was putting pressure on the child’s wounds, Paz was not willing to loosen his hold. 

“You’re hurting them you know.” The Barabel laughed quietly. “Might not wanna soil those wings more than they already are. Sell em’ and you’d never have to work another day in your life.”

“Shut up!”

“I’m just telling you the truth.” Gaius paused. “Say if I had a working bacta tank, they could be healed in no time. But, I’d like a cut of whatever that little one sells for!”

The Mandalorian made a show of pulling out his heavy blaster, making sure it was set to kill rather than stun. The enemy’s eyes widened and he scrambled to his feet.

“Hey look, a guy has to make his way somehow in this kriffing galaxy and it's not like Anglebay is a sign of living well!”

“You are suggesting I sell my child,” Paz seethed, “You have no right to call yourself a healer! I should kill you where you stand!”

“Then you leave an apprentice without her teacher and your...child without knowing of themself.”

He faltered at that, looking down at (Y/N) for a moment. What Gaius said could of course have been nothing but nonsense, but his unrestrained excitement upon seeing the foundling was too genuine to be a lie. The reptilian man grinned knowing that he had proven himself worthy of being spared. 

Paz clenched his fists, hics knuckles cracking in the process. “Speak quickly. You test my patience.”

“And you promise I will get to walk freely? Without any other scratches?”   
  


He tapped the trigger lightly. “Like I said. Speak quickly.”

Gaius licked his lips nervously, eyeing the door like a desperate man and though Paz was shorter, his frame was large enough to block it off. 

“What you have there is an ancient, carnivorous species of predator going back millions of years. No one knows what planet they hailed from but the few that knew of them believed them to be indigenous to Alderaan. Unnamed of course. While their extinction may be unfortunate, it’s not surprising. Too many hunters and so little of them. 

“Paz wanted to riddle the Barabel full of blaster shots, his voice made his ears almost bleed. 

“Nothing in the galaxy gives off a shine quite like the feathers and those along with the teeth are said to not only have medicinal properties, but spiritual as well. Mounting went out of fashion and with years of violence the rich used them to to heal themselves and those in their inner circle.” 

Gaius pointed a jagged claw at the child’s pained face. 

“I thought all of them died long ago...It is said that one of my kind still possessed a feather from eons ago…”

The child’s guardian gestured to the door with the blaster, “There, you have served your purpose. Now leave before I change our deal.”

Keeping his hands up in defense, Gaius skidded around Paz, giving a very dry laugh, “Come on, Mandalorian. My pupil did heal your child. Just one feather, that is all I ask.” The Mandalorian kept advancing, forcing the reptile out of his ship. 

“You get to leave with your life. Be thankful.”

And with the bastard finally out of the craft, Paz Vizsla slammed the button and the hatch closed with a crash. Realizing he was still tightly clinging onto (Y/N), he rushed back to his quarters and gingerly placed them back on the bed how the young nurse had positioned them. A second after they had been laid down, their lids of their eyes started to twitch before opening completely.

“Ugh,” they let out a low groan, attempting to stretch but finding it too painful, “what the hell happened?” Their eyes finally focused on Paz much to his delight. “Hey, big blue.”

Their anguished smile gave him one of his own. For there was much to explain and no real gentle way to do so. 


End file.
